The Pumpkin Man
by KaitlynRose
Summary: Autumn in New England. Decapitated bodies. Legends of a headless horseman. Will Dean and Sam stop the murders, or become the next victims this Halloween? COMPLETE
1. Chapter 1

Pumpkin Man

By KaitlynRose

Disclaimer: I don't own Supernatural. Please don't sue me.

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Sam stared out the window as Dean drove down the country road. They were in upstate NY and the trees blazed in autumnal red, gold, and orange. The scenery before them was so beautiful that even Martha Stewart would have to be impressed.

"You seem awfully happy," Dean commented. He had been watching Sam and for whatever reason his kid brother was grinning like an idiot.

"I'm just admiring the view," he explained. "You have to admit that it doesn't get much better than autumn in New England. Hey, what do you say we stop somewhere and get some cider and doughnuts?"

Dean chuckled and said, "Sure, and while we're at it we can buy some pumpkins and carve them. Oh, and then, we can roast the seeds while we watch 'It's the Great Pumpkin Charlie Brown', and later if you're a good little boy I'll take you trick or treating."

"Asshole," Sam grumbled just loud enough for Dean to hear. Why did Dean always have to ruin a nice moment?

Dean could tell that he'd really hurt Sammy's feelings. "Dude, I'm sorry. If you want cider and doughnuts that bad we can stop and get them."

"Never mind," Sam sulked. "It wasn't so much the food as it was the chance to just…I don't know…" There was such longing in his voice.

"Do something normal." Dean finished for him. He took his eyes off the road long enough to see his words had hit the mark. "Sam, there is nothing normal about us. There aren't even words in the English language to describe just how far from normal we are."

Sam shrugged and sighed. "Yeah, I guess it was a stupid idea. Just forget I even mentioned it. So how far are we from Stars Commons?"

"We should be there in about thirty minutes if you read the map correctly." Dean knew Sam had changed the subject and he let him. He really did feel bad. Sam had been grinning just a moment ago and he had managed to wipe the happiness right off his face with just a few words. Dean had only meant to crack a joke, but since Jessica died Sammy just didn't know how to take a joke anymore.

Things were getting better though. He had noticed small changes in Sammy's attitude after fighting the shape shifter and the Hookman. It seemed as if a little of the guilt Sam had been carrying like a noose around his neck was lifting. Oh, he still felt guilt, to be sure, but small moments of happiness were starting to peek out, like the one Dean had just ruined.

"I'm still not convinced this isn't someone's idea of a sick prank," Sam said, interrupting Dean's thoughts. "There is no such thing as a Headless Horseman."

"All I know is what the newspaper is reporting," Dean defended. "In the past several weeks three people have had their heads cut off and when the bodies were found the next day the heads were gone."

"Still, that doesn't mean a corpse with a jack-o-lantern is walking around committing the murders."

"There was an eye witness to the last murder and she swears that she saw the Headless Horseman kill her boyfriend," Dean said.

"I'm sorry, but I don't buy it," Sam exclaimed. "The Headless Horseman isn't a myth or a legend. He was never a real person so he can't be a real ghost now. He was a figment of Washington Irving's imagination. Characters from stories don't walk out of books and come to life."

"Sammy, think about what we do for a living day in and day out. Think of all the weird shit we have come across and seen. Does a character walking out of a book suddenly sound so farfetched?"

"It's Sam, and when you put it like that, no, is doesn't, but still, I think we are dealing with a good old fashioned psychopath who is on a killing rampage and is copying something he read in a book or saw in a movie."

"And you may be right, but it won't hurt for us to go and check it out anyway, just to make sure we aren't dealing with a ghost who's suffering from head envy."

"Head envy?" Sam actually cracked a smile at that.

Dean saw his chance to make Sam happy again so he went with it. "Hey, if a man can have penis envy, then I think a ghost can have head envy."

"Are you saying you have penis envy?" Sam couldn't resist the chance to tease his brother for once.

"What! Hell no! Trust me, if it were any bigger women would faint on sight."

"Okay, let's not go there. This is a mental picture I just don't need," Sam groaned.

"You don't have to make a mental picture. I'm more than willing to show and tell," Dean grinned, "That is…unless you're afraid you won't be able to measure up afterward."

Sam groaned and leaned his head against the door window. It was going to be a long thirty minutes to Stars Common.


	2. Stars Common

Chapter 2: Stars Common

Dean pulled into a parking lot next the Main Street Cafe. He looked over at Sam and saw that once more he was looking around and admiring everything. Dean had to admit, the small town was beautiful. Trees of all colors were everywhere, as were pumpkins and decorations for Halloween.

There was a small white chapel church across the street. Just down the block was city hall. The intersection had several antique stores along with the usual tourist attractions that small towns survived on. There was the Star Fudge and Taffy House, the General Store, a Country Store, Betty's Quilts and Fine Linens, along with a small arcade. Actually, Dean was rather hoping they could find and excuse to go into the arcade.

They went in the café and were seated by a pleasant looking woman. Even though she was too old for Dean he still flirted and charmed her anyway as she gave them the menus and listed the specials.

"This place is nice," Sam commented.

"Yeah, if you like this kind of thing." Dean knew Sam hoped to live this kind of life some day. Quiet town, pretty wife, 2.5 kids and a dog named Rover. Yep, Sam had the white picket fence dream and Dean honestly hoped his brother could have that one day. One day in the far distant future. Truth was, Dean was always a little nervous when they found themselves someplace Sam really liked. He was always afraid that Sam would decide to stay.

He thought that was going to happen when they saved Laurie from the Hookman. He saw the way Sam looked at Laurie, and one would have to be blind not to see how Laurie had felt about Sam. Dean had even offered to stay there longer. Sam would never know how relieved he had been when he shook his head no.

Dean wasn't ready to lose his brother again. Losing Sam the first time had broke his heart. Sam teased Dean for being antisocial, and he guessed it was true, but as long as he had his baby brother it didn't matter. Sam didn't realize that protecting him and looking after him had been Dean's whole life. Sam would never know how much his big brother loved him.

"Hi, I'm Patty. Can I take your order?"

"Hi," Sam said, "I'd like to get the turkey and stuffing with mashed potatoes."

"Soup or Salad? We've got chicken noodle or bean and ham."

"Um, I'll have the chicken soup."

"Okay, and what would you like?"

"I'll have a double cheese burger, chili fries, and a chocolate shake."

"Got it," Patty said and walked off to start their order.

"You know you don't have to worry about the job killing you. You're going to die from high cholesterol or a heart attack first."

"We all gotta go somehow," Dean laughed. He looked around the café and realized the place was dead. He looked out the window to the street beyond and realized the same thing. Today was Saturday. It was autumn time. Where were the tourists? Where were the town's people? Where were the kids running back and forth?

"Have you noticed we're the only people here?" Dean asked.

"Yeah, I have."

"There's also no one outside," Dean pointed out.

"Small town," Sam said. "Three murders in a place this size is a big deal. Maybe everyone is staying home."

Dean nodded in agreement. Patty came back and set down Sam's soup, a coke, and Dean's chocolate shake.

"Where is everyone?" Dean asked. "Is there a big town bonfire or something going on somewhere?"

"I wish," Patty said. "The truth is, people are scared. In the past couple of weeks three people have been murdered. Grisly things they were. Those boys had their heads cut right off their bodies. The town council is in an uproar. This time of year business should be booming, but with all this, well, it's going to be lean times ahead."

"Who was killed?" Sam asked gently, trying not to sound too morbid.

"Well, Jim Roberts, he owned the auto repair shop just outside of town, he was killed…as was Brian Dupree. He worked for Jim and was dating Sarah Beth, Jim's younger sister.

"Were they killed on the same night?" Sam continued.

"No. Jim was killed first, about two weeks ago, and then poor Brian got it just a couple of days ago. It's a real shame. A lot of people around here really liked them. They were good people, didn't deserve what they got."

"What about the other guy?" Dean asked. "Didn't you say there were three."

"Oh, yes. His name was Jacob Rains. He was the first to die. Not too many people around here will miss him much. He was an awful man, just mean to the core."

"Why?" Sam inquired. "I mean, what did he do?"

"Well, he's been fired from almost every place in this town. He was always stealing from who ever he worked for. Then last year the Miller's had their barn burned down. People say Jacob did it because Molly, their daughter, refused to date him. Jacob had fallen hard for her."

Dean loved how people from small towns loved to talk. It made his job so much easier. "So did this Jacob hang out with Jim and Brian?"

"Lord no, they wouldn't have wasted their time on the likes of him. I know Jacob was flirting with Sarah Beth a little while back, but Brian nipped that in the bud real fast."

"How?" Sam was starting to see a connection here. One look at Dean and he knew his brother was also connecting the dots.

"Oh, he just told Jacob to back off or he'd put him in a hospital," Patty said with a small laugh and a wave of her hand. "Well, I best go check on your food. If you need anything just let me know."

"Thanks, we'll do that," Dean said, giving his most charming smile. As soon as she was out of ear shot he looked to Sam. "We need to pay a visit to Sarah Beth Roberts."

"I agree. Everything that happened seems to come back to her."

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Dean knocked lightly on Sarah Beth's door. It had only taken Sam a few minutes to get the address off the internet.

The door opened but it wasn't a girl who said, "May I help you?" Standing at the door was a man who resembled a professional wrestler. He was as tall as Sam and as built as a football player.

"Hi," Dean started. "We're here to see Sarah."

"Who the hell are you?" the giant asked.

"Uh, I'm Dean Winters and this is Sam Haskle. We're reporters looking into the bizarre incidents that have been happening in your town."

"Yeah, well you can get the hell out of here. Sarah doesn't want to talk to you or any other reporters so stop hounding her."

"And just who are you?" Dean asked.

"None of your damn business!" With that the door was slammed in their faces.

"Well, that went well," Sam said as they walked down the stairs. "Now what?"

"Now we wait. We need to talk to Sarah. She's bound to leave her house eventually. When she does we'll question her then."

The two staked out Sarah's house for the next three hours. The sun was getting low in the sky when something finally happened. The big burly guy left the house and climbed into a big new pickup truck. He sent gravel and dirt flying as he raced from the driveway.

"Do we risk knocking on the door?" Sam asked. "We still don't know if she's alone."

Dean didn't get the chance to answer. Sarah stepped outside and headed for her car. Sam saw that she was very pretty. She was in her early twenties and had long brown hair that was pulled into a neat ponytail. From this distance he couldn't see if she had make-up on, but she had a nice figure.

She got into an old Dodge Neon and left her driveway. Dean carefully followed her down several winding country roads, making sure not to get to close to spook her, yet not getting too far behind and risk losing her.

Finally she turned into a cemetery. Dean also turned in and slowed to a crawl. He watched as she parked her car a little ways ahead of them. Dean went ahead and parked his car where they were.

"Let's leave the car here," Dean said. "I really don't want to spook this girl. We need her help." Sam nodded.

They got out of their car and began to walk towards Sarah Beth. Now that the sun was starting to set the air was growing colder and Sam wished he had a heavier coat. He pulled his jacket tighter around him and followed behind Dean.

Long shadows were cast by the blowing trees. Leaves rustled as they blew across the ground. They got closer to Sarah and saw her literally lying on top of a freshly filled grave crying her eyes out.

"Dean, stay here," Sam suddenly said.

"What?"

"Give me a minute," Sam said. He continued towards Sarah until he was finally standing right next to her. She was so lost in her grief that she didn't even notice his presence. Sam got down on one knee and called her name softly.

"Ahh!" Sarah gasped and sat bolt upright. "Who are you?"

"Don't be afraid. I'm not here to hurt you. My name is Sam."

"You're…you're that reporter. The one Tom ran off earlier."

"Yes, I am. I understand you don't want to talk to reporters, but I'm really here just to help. I understand how you feel. My girlfriend Jessica was murdered about five months ago and I'm still trying to learn how to go on. I think I can help you. I also think if you help me we might be able to find out what or who did this."

Sarah stared at him for a moment, tying to see if she believed him or not. She found herself looking into his sad puppy eyes and she felt she could believe this stranger, trust him even.

"What do you want to know?" she asked.

"Everything you can tell us."

"Us?"

"Yes, my brother Dean is over there. Will you talk to us?"

"Only if you swear you will believe me."

"I swear."


	3. Overprotective Brothers

Chapter 3: Overprotective Brothers

Author's Note: I know that the Headless Horseman has a real place in history. I'm planning on using that later in the story as a plot twist :-). Thanks for reviewing and for any constructive comments. I hope everyone is enjoying the story.

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Sarah was smart enough not to get into a car with two men she didn't know, so she drove to the café while Sam and Dean followed behind her. They parked in the lot and headed for the door.

Loud music was coming from somewhere down the road, a bar most likely. No matter what was wrong in the world you could always count on the town drinking establishment to still be open for business and for the regulars to keep coming.

They all walked into the café. Patty's shift must have ended because she wasn't there. An older woman with a name tag that read Wilma showed them to a booth in the back corner.

"Just coffee for now," Dean said. He noticed Wilma giving Sarah a reproachful look, one that said her boyfriend was only dead a few days and yet here she was with two strange men.

"Is it going to be a problem for you?" Dean asked. "Being here with us, that is?"

"People will gossip for a day or two, but that's all," Sarah admitted.

"What about Tom?" Sam inquired. "Is there any chance he'll show up here?"

"He shouldn't. Not as long as the bar has booze," Sarah replied. "I know Tom was rude to you earlier, and I apologize for that, but he was just looking out for me. He's my big brother. Both he and Jim were always so protective of me after our parents died. Jim had just turned eighteen and Tom was seventeen. At first the state tried to take me away because I was only twelve. They wanted to put me in a foster home, but Jim opened the auto shop and proved to the courts that he could take care of me and Tom. Those two raised me to tell the truth."

During Sarah's story of her protective brothers Sam couldn't help but look at Dean. Sure enough, Dean was looking back at him with a knowing smirk on his face.

"Anyway, that's why Tom was so rough on you two earlier. After Jim was…was killed…reporters started showing up on our door step, but then when Brian was murdered too, well, you have no idea how crazy it was. I mean, they even came to the funeral. It was awful. I don't even know why I'm telling you this. If Tom knew I was talking to you right now he'd freak."

"I know it's hard to believe," Sam explained, "but we really are here to help."

"You two aren't reporters are you?" she asked.

"No," Dean replied. "We…we solve mysteries…ones that other people can't solve, ones that make no sense to other people because the truth is just too hard to believe sometimes."

"Well, I really hope you can help me, because I feel like if I don't get some help soon I'm going to go crazy for real."

"For real?" Sam asked.

"Yeah, the Sheriff already thinks I am. He said to Tom that I was so overcome with grief that I must have imagined it all, that there was just no way I could possibly be right."

"Right about what?" Dean asked.

"About how Brian died. Brian…he was my boyfriend. Actually, the night before he died he…he asked Tom if he could marry me." Once more Sarah was overcome with grief and put her hands to her face and cried.

Instinctively Sam put a hand on Sarah's shoulder and comforted her. He handed her a napkin from the dispenser and she wiped her eyes with it.

"No one knows," she continued. "He died before I had the chance to share the news. Brian was the first man that I ever dated that my brothers actually liked and hadn't threatened to kill." She laughed and cried at the same time.

"I can't believe a few weeks ago I had two brothers and a man who loved me with his entire heart, and now it's just me and Tom. I feel like my whole world has come crashing down and I haven't got a clue what to do anymore. Tom…he's a wreck. He's trying to hold it together for my benefit. He feels he's the man, he's older, he's supposed to be the strong one, but I know. Lately he's been practically keeping me under lock and key he's so afraid, and at night he's started drinking at the bar. He was never like that before. I mean, sure, he liked a cold beer now and then, but he never drank just for the sake of getting drunk, like he does now."

"It's not always easy, being the big brother. The need to protect your siblings can be so strong at times that it borders on obsession," Dean told her.

Sam knew Dean was talking about their relationship with each other and made a point of not looking Dean in the eyes. Instead he focused on Sarah.

"Sarah, what did you see the night Brian died?"

"We were coming home from the movies. Brian had taken me out on a date after proposing. It was late by the time the movie ended. We were halfway home when Brian slammed on the breaks. A person was kneeling…or…crouching in the middle of the road. We could see his back to us because of the headlights. Brian got out of the truck to see if the man was okay. He looked hurt or something. The minute Brian put his hand on the man's shoulder he…he stood up and drew a sword from somewhere. I screamed. I remember screaming. Brian just stood there staring at that thing. It was a man with no head. I swear…I know it sounds crazy, that I sound crazy, but I saw it clear as day in the headlights."

"What type of clothes did it have on?" Dean asked.

"They were old looking. Not old as in worn out, but old fashioned with ruffles on the sleeves and stuff. Then, out of the blue, that thing swings the sword and Brian's…Brian's head…it just…was gone. I saw it drop to the ground and then Brian's body fell like it was in slow motion."

"Sarah, what happened then?" Sam asked.

"I screamed. Then that thing turned around to face me, only it didn't have a face, but that's what it did none the less. It seemed to see me. I slid over to the driver's seat, put the truck in reverse, and floored it all the way back to the intersection. Then I turned the corner and went straight to the police department and told the sheriff. The sheriff and his deputy drove out there and found Brian's body, but just like Jim, his head was gone. They still haven't found their heads."

"Did you see Jim get killed?" Dean asked.

"No. I was working at the fudge shop when Tom drove up and came inside to tell me what had happened. Jim had been murdered at the auto shop. Brian had left to get get some food and when he came back Jim was dead, head gone."

"So this thing attacked in broad daylight?" Sam asked.

"No, it was about eight at night when Tom came to see me. On the weekends the fudge shop stayed open later because of tourists." Sarah picked up her cup of coffee.

"Did you know Jacob Rains?" Dean asked.

Sarah's hand stopped in mid-air, the cup of coffee hovering over the table. "Um, no, not really." Her voice was quivering and her hand was shaking.

"We heard he was flirting with you," Dean said.

"Oh, that, it was no big deal. He just said some off the wall comments. Brain told him to get lost and that was the end of it."

"Are you sure?" Sam asked. "This could be important."

"Yeah, I'm sure," she said with a bit more confidence this time. Sam and Dean both knew that she was holding back, but now wasn't the time to push it. She was just barely holding herself together.

"If you two will excuse me, I'll be right back." Dean stood up and headed towards the restroom.

"He's your brother, isn't he?" Sarah asked.

"How did you know?"

"That comment he made about big brothers. It was easy to tell he was talking about you."

"We didn't exactly have a normal childhood growing up. In a lot of ways Dean raised me like your brothers raised you, so believe me, I understand all about having someone constantly watching out for you."

"Do you ever get frustrated?"

"Sometimes I wish he'd back off just a little, but truthfully, most of the time I'm just really thankful he's there."

"Be glad you have him," Sarah said. "You never know how good you have it until something truly bad happens and takes it away from you."

The bell over the door chimed and both Sarah and Sam turned their heads. As soon as Sam saw who entered the café he knew they were in trouble. There was Sarah's brother Tom along with several of his drinking buddies. He was clearly drunk, but not so drunk that he couldn't recognize his sister. He immediately marched up to their table.

"Sarah, what are you doing here?" he demanded.

"I was just talking," she said sweetly.

Tom turned to Sam. Recognition came to him slowly, but when it did steam practically blew out of his ears.

"YOU! I told you to stay away from my sister!"

Sarah jumped up and placed herself in front of Sam. "Tom, wait. It's okay. He's just helping."

"I'll bet! Helping himself to his damn story. He's only here so he can print his lies, make you look like some crazy nut, or even worse, he's hoping to get in your pants!"

"Wait, it's not like that at all," Sam said.

"I'll bet!" Tom grabbed Sam by his shirt collar and yanked him out of the booth.

"Tom no!" Sarah cried. "Please Tom."

It was too late. Tom punched Sam in the nose and blood immediately began to pour. Sam fell to the floor and shook his head, trying to get his bearings.

"SAMMY!" Dean came out of the bathroom just in time to see Sam go down on all fours. He started running and hit Tom with a full tackle.

"NO!" Sarah cried. "Stop it, both of you!" Once again she placed herself between to two fighting men. Both Tom and Dean were chomping at the bit as those protective instincts coursed through their veins.

"Dean, don't," Sam said as he stood up. He looked at Sarah. "I'm sorry for your loss. It was nice meeting you. Good night."

Dean stood there dumbfounded. He was ready to wipe the floor with this son of a bitch and Sam was standing there exchanging pleasantries.

"Let's go," Sam said. He grabbed a wad of napkins from the table and used them to hold his nose and then walked out of the café.

Dean wasn't about to be swayed that easily. "Don't you ever touch my brother again." Then Dean turned to follow Sam outside. Sam was standing by the car when Dean came out.

"What the hell was that?" Dean demanded.

"That was me stopping a fight before it happened."

"I think the fight was already in the process of happening when you decided to walk away from it."

"Dean, he's just protecting his sister from two strangers. His brother and Sarah's fiancé were murdered and he wants to make sure the last member of his family is safe. Can you honestly say you would be acting any differently if you were in his shoes? Just now you were ready to kill him with your bare hands because he had the nerve to punch your brother. Am I right?""

Dean sighed. "I guess. Still, he didn't have to hit you. Are you okay?" Dean lifted Sam's hand away from his face and gently felt the bridge of Sam's nose. "I don't think it's broken, but we better find a place to stay and get some ice on it to keep the swelling down."

"What ever you say, mom," Sam teased. He always found it amusing when Dean would turn into a mother hen.

"Oh shut up," Dean protested and climbed into the car. "And don't bleed on my car or I'll give you a black eye to match your nose!"


	4. Nightmares

Chapter 4: Nightmares

Dean found a small motel just on the outside of town. It was a little run down but it was clean and it had two beds. Dean let Sam take a shower first since he was covered in blood all down his face and neck. Sam's bloody clothes were draped over the bathroom sink trying to dry from where Sam had washed the blood out.

Dean laid back on his bed and flipped through all six of the TV channels before finally settling on watching Jaws. Sam finally stepped out of the bathroom wearing just a pair of boxers. His nose had faired surprisingly well. There was a bit of a bluish tinge to it, but other wise it was fine.

"Did you say this place had a washing machine?"

"Yeah, there was a washer and dryer right next to the vending machines," Dean said.

"Good. Will you go and dump all of these into the machine. I'd go do it but walking around in my underwear probably isn't the best of ideas."

"Can't you just re-wear some of them," Dean whined. Honestly, Sammy put way to much value in clean clothes. As long as they could pass the sniff test what was the big deal if they were a little wrinkled.

"I've already re-worn them…several times. Pretty soon they are going to start walking around by them selves. Please, just once do me a favor and put them in the machine. I promise to wash your clothes next time."

"Fine." Dean stood up and started grabbing the clothes. As he held them he realized that they were actually pretty stinky. He took a moment to grab a few of his clothes as well. Might as well get it all done in one load.

Sam laid down on his bed and snuggled under the covers. It was really cold outside and the minute Dean opened the door a frigid blast of cold air rushed into the room. As he laid there he ignored the movie on the TV and thought about the conversation he had with Sarah earlier. His heart really went out to her. Not only did she lose her love, but her brother too. He'd lost Jessica, but he still had Dean. He was truly thankful for that. He couldn't imagine how he would go on if something happened to Dean.

Even when he was at college, he always knew Dean was there, somewhere, just a phone call away if he needed him. Dad and Dean thought it had been so easy for Sam to walk away form them. If they only knew! Leaving was the hardest thing he'd ever done. The first couple of weeks at night he'd bury himself under his covers and cry in his dorm room. He missed his father, but he really missed Dean the most. He missed not having his guardian angle there to look out for him and make him laugh when he was feeling down. Hell, he even missed the sound of Dean's snoring.

Then he met Jessica, and slowly the loneliness faded. Weeks went by and he didn't think about his family. Then months went by. Still, he always knew Dean was a phone call away.

The last few months, if it hadn't been for Dean holding him together, giving him a reason to wake up in the morning, he didn't know if he would have made it after losing Jessica. Thoughts of Dean and Jess filled his mind as he drifted off to sleep.

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Dean shoved the clothes in the machine and spent a two dollars on the soap dispenser to get a sample size box of Tide. After dumping the power into the machine with the clothes he walked over to the vending machines. One was filled with sandwiches that looked down right toxic. Figuring food poison would be a bad thing he opted for a bag of Doritos, two Cokes, and a bag of M & M's with a for Sam.

He glanced at his watch so he'd have some idea of when to come back and put the clothes in the dryer and finally went back to the room.

"Hey, I got munchies," Dean announced before he realized that Sam was asleep in his bed. He smiled at the sight of his baby brother curled up and half buried under the covers. Suddenly Sam wasn't six foot two anymore. Dean saw the Sammy of the past, the little boy who worshipped him and wanted to be just like him when he grew up. The little boy that Dean tucked in every night because their father was off hunting some monster and there was no one else to do it.

He set Sam's Coke and M&M's on the table next to his bed and then sat down on his own bed. Jaws was just getting to the good part. Roy Schneider just said "We're gonna need a bigger boat." He'd finish watching the movie, put the clothes in the dryer, and join Sam in dreamland.

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_Sam was running through a field of corn, pausing every now and then to listen for a noise of any kind. He had to hurry, but he had to be careful. It was after him. There was a rustling of corn stalks to his left and he took off running again as fast as he could. He was running like the devil himself was chasing him._

_Sam suddenly burst out of the corn field and was in an open meadow. Noise from behind reminded him that his life was in danger and he ran once more. Ahead of him he saw a farm house. He could hide there, maybe even get help. He looked behind him to see a body without a head slash his way out of the corn field. It was tall even without the head and the moonlight reflected off of its royal blue brocade riding jacket with a white ruffled collar and sleeves. Also reflecting the moonlight was a long and shiny blade that must have measured three feet. The sword had a razor sharp edge and a gilded handle._

_Sam increased his speed but the horseman also moved incredibly fast and was catching up. Sam's breathing became heavy and his legs were slowing down against his will. He had been running for so long. He was almost to the house, almost there. His foot connected with the first step and then he stopped. The front door opened and Dean walked out onto the porch._

_"Dean!" Sam choked out._

_SLASH_

_Dean stared in horror as Sam's head was suddenly severed from his body with such a force that both torso and head were thrown for several feet._

_"SAMMY!"_

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"SAMMY!" Dean sat up in his bed and gasped for breath. His heart was beating so fast in his chest that it ached. "Oh god…Sammy…Sammy."

"Dean, what's wrong?" Sam asked, sitting up in his bed and turning on the lamp. "Are you okay?" Sam had thought they were under attack or the building was on fire.

"Yeah." Dean was panting so fast that it was difficult to speak. "I'm…I'm sorry…I woke you."

"Don't be," Sam said. "I've done it to you dozens of times. Do you want to talk about it?"

"No," Dean replied, realizing he was behaving just like Sam usually did after a nightmare. He wasn't about to tell his brother he had just watched him get decapitated in what had to be the most realistic dream he had ever had. "I'm fine, really. Go back to sleep."

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah, I'm sure. Good night." Dean turned off the lamp, laid back down, and rolled onto his side hoping like hell he was convincing his brother that he was okay. The truth was Dean Winchester was done sleeping for the night. There would be no way he could close his eyes and not see those images replay in his mind.

Some time later Dean heard Sam's even breathing and he knew Sam had fallen back to sleep. He sat up in his bed and stared at the wall for a while. He still couldn't believe the dream. It was so real that when he first woke up from it he actually believed that it had been real. It wasn't until Sammy called his name that he realized the truth.

He shook his head. He hadn't been kidding when he told Sam that they were a couple of freaks. His eyes drifted to Sam's bed when he suddenly heard moaning coming from that side of the room. So Sam was also having nightmares tonight. Actually, Dean had fully expected Sam to have them. As sensitive as he was, there was no way Sam could have listened to Sarah talk about losing her fiancé and her brother and not have been affected by what he heard.

"Dean…Dean," Sam mumbled, his head tossing and turning.

Dean got out of his bed and walked over to Sam. "Sam, you're okay," Dean told him. He put his hand on Sam's shoulder and squeezed it, hoping that even asleep he would know that Dean was there with him. It seemed to be working. Sam stopped thrashing and settled into a deeper sleep.

"Dean," he whispered one last time and rolled over. Dean didn't even stop to think about what he was doing. He needed sleep. Sam needed sleep. He had a feeling this was the only way either of them were going to get it. He pulled back the covers and crawled into the full size bed with Sam. In a matter of minutes both of them were sleeping soundly.

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Sam woke the next morning feeling wonderful. He just laid in bed with his eyes closed reveling in the comfort. The pillow was like a cloud under his head and Jessica's arm was wrapped wound his waist. Maybe he'd surprise her this morning. He'd get up and cook her breakfast in bed.

Sam's eyes shot open when he heard a familiar snore. He sat up in bed and saw Dean sprawled out next to him, his arm still tossed over Sam's side.

"Dean!" Sam called loudly. "By any chance did you get lost while traveling from the bathroom back to your bed?"

"Dude, it's early, go back to sleep," Dean mumbled.

"Seriously, what are you doing?"

"Hmm," Dean signed and rolled over, yanking the covers with him. "You were having bad dreams again."

"So you slept in my bed?"

"It used to work when you were little," Dean said as a matter of fact, "and you didn't have anymore dreams last night, did you?"

"I…uh…oh never mind," Sam said as he pulled back the covers and made his way to the bathroom. "Sigmund Freud would have a field day with us."

"With you, yes, me, not so much. I'm perfectly sane," Dean chuckled.

Sam came out of the bathroom with his toothbrush in hand. "Wait a minute! You were the one who had a nightmare last night!" he accused. "I remember. You were screaming my name."

"I don't scream!" Dean protested.

"Whatever, you were calling really loudly. Is that better?"

"Fine, I'll accept that," Dean grumbled.

"So you were the one who needed help sleeping last night, not me."

"No, no, no! I was fine afterward. You then started having bad dreams and started calling my name."

"Did not," Sam said.

"Did too."

"I did not ."

Dean was done with this conversation. He grabbed a pillow and flung it at Sam's face. Sam caught the pillow and threw it back at Dean before going back to the bathroom to finish brushing his teeth.


	5. Victim Number Fourand Five

Chapter 5: Victim Number Four…and Five

Sam and Dean were sitting in the café eating breakfast. Once more Patty was their waitress. She had asked them all about the incident last night with Sarah and Tom. They had assured her it was just an unfortunate misunderstanding.

They were almost finished when suddenly three police cruisers went racing down Main Street with their sirens blaring.

"Oh no," Sam gasped. "You don't think?"

"Yeah, yeah I do. Come on."

Both hurried to the register to pay for their meal, then rushed to the car and drove to Sarah Beth's house as fast as possible.

Sure enough, all three police cars were parked outside, as was an ambulance. Dean parked the car on the grass and they got out.

"Hold it," a deputy said. "Who are you?"

"We're friends of Sarah's. Please, what's happened? Is Sarah all right?" Sam asked.

"Sarah's okay. I'm going to need your names."

"Dean and Sam Winters." Dean decided to give them both the same last name just in case Sarah mentioned they were brothers. "What's happened? If it isn't Sarah, then is Tom okay?"

The look on the deputy's face said it all. Dean and Sam knew Tom was dead. They looked up to see the Sheriff leading Sarah out of the house. She was crying and clinging to the man as if her life depended on it.

Sam and Dean walked past the deputy and hurried over to her. "Sarah?" Sam called. She saw him and let go of the Sheriff and hurried over.

"Sam! Sam he's dead. It came back last night." She threw herself into his arms and almost collapsed.

"Sarah, what happened?" Sam asked.

"The Headless Horseman came here last night. He busted down the door. Tom tried to fight him, but it…it…oh god, it was awful. He cut off his head!" Sarah broke down again. The medics from the ambulance walked up and pried her off of Sam.

"We're going to take her to the hospital," one of them explained. "Just for observation until she calms down some."

"Where is the hospital?" Dean asked.

"On Oakwood. Go down Main Street until you just leave town and you'll hit Oakwood. Turn right. You can't miss it."

"Sarah, we'll see you soon," Sam said, but she was in a daze now and didn't hear him.

"Take good care of her," Dean told the medic.

"Don't worry. She'll be looked after."

Dean and Sam were suddenly alone with the Sheriff who was looking them over pretty closely.

"Who are you boys exactly?"

"I'm Dean and this is my brother Sam. We were passing through town and heard what happened."

"I wanted to meet Sarah, to help her," Sam said. "I lost someone I loved a few months back, and our Dad is missing, we've been looking for him for a while now. I just knew how she felt. We talked last night at the Café for a while."

"I know, I heard all about your talk," the Sheriff replied.

"Hey, we didn't do anything wrong. One minute we're drinking coffee, the next minute a giant is smashing my face in," Sam explained.

"I believe you," the Sheriff said. "I know…knew Tom pretty well. Believe me, you aren't the first guy to get his face smashed in. For the record, where were you two last night?"

"We were at the motel just outside of town. We checked in about ten," Dean answered.

"Did you leave after checking in?"

"No, we put some ice on Sam's nose, he took a shower, I did some laundry, and we went to bed. I swear."

"I believe you. I just wish I could believe Sarah. Anyway, you boys best get out of here. We've a lot of work to do."

"Yes, sir," Sam said. He and Dean quickly made their way back to the car.

"We need to do some research," Dean said. "We need to find out who this headless guy is and what his deal is."

"We also need to question Sarah. Last night she didn't tell us the whole story," Sam added.

"In her current state I honestly don't know if she can help us or not," Dean sighed. "She's a mess."

"You would be too," Sam said.

"I know. We may as well go to the library. It's as good a place as any to start."

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At the library Dean researched the history of the property where Sarah lived while Sam looked to see if any one from the town's history had been decapitated. They worked for nearly four hours before Dean finally threw a stack of papers down on the table in frustration.

"I've got nothing," Dean said.

"Same here. Until last month there had been no decapitations in this town. I did learn something useful though."

"What?"

"There actually was a headless horseman. He was a Hessian soldier who died in the Revolution. The problem is he didn't die here."

"Did he at least die in New York?" Dean asked.

"Yes, but not where we are."

"Maybe a descendent of his is living here and that's the connection," Dean thought out loud.

"It's possible, but slim at best. This man lived hundreds of years ago. By now the bloodline would be so watered down that I doubt a relative today would have enough of a bond to call him forth."

"Well something is bringing him to Stars Common."

Sam shook his head. "I still think this has something to do with Sarah Beth. Think about it. This thing has managed to kill everyone who was close to her."

"Not just people close to her, but the people who protected her," Dean added. "Think about it, she's alone in the world now. All her guardians are gone."

"Except for Jacob Rains. He wasn't her protector."

"No, he was a threat. Maybe that's why it killed him. It killed him first in fact. The ghost killed an unwanted suitor, and then everyone else." Dean paced back and forth as he talked out his ideas.

"We're still missing something," Sam said. "And what ever we're missing, it's big."

"I agree I just haven't got a clue what. Let's get out of here and get something to eat." Dean started putting papers and blue prints back in their boxes.

"Hang on a second," Sam said and went to the card catalog. He began skimming the cards looking for "The Legend of Sleepy Hallow." Finally he found the card and scribbled down the number on a piece of paper.

He walked up and down the shelves looking for his book. Finally he found the place where the book was supposed to be but wasn't. With all the rumors spreading around town someone must have already checked the book out. Oh well, he could always buy the book at a book store.

"What's taking so long?" Dean asked.

"Nothing. I'm ready."

They left the building and noticed the sun would be going down soon. The days were growing shorter, especially since daylight savings had ended. The air was cold and Sam could see his breath. He shoved his hands into his pockets to try and keep warm.

"We're going to have to get you a warmer coat," Dean commented. He could see Sam shivering.

"I'm fine; besides, we're running short on money. We need to hold on to what we have to pay for food and our room."

"I'll get you a warmer coat," Dean said dryly. "In the mean time you can borrow my sweat shirt to wear under your jacket."

"Dean, I don't want you to steal a coat. Really, I'm fine. Your sweatshirt will be enough."

"Who said anything about stealing," Dean replied. "I'll think of something." Dean hated to admit that money was becoming a problem. When he was with Dad they would often just sleep in the car, but after tearing Sam away from his perfect life he felt obligated to provide some form of domestic living for his brother, especially since Sam had been so emotionally fragile after Jess died. Tonight after Sam fell asleep he would have to make some new identities and then tomorrow he'd find an Office Max and get to work.

"It also didn't help that Sam had to be such a boy scout. He hated doing anything illegal, but the fact of the matter was, their life style called for it occasionally. Dean never took anything he didn't need, and he never stole for the fun of it. Dad had taught him right from the beginning that life had necessities and life had wants, and he was to focus on the necessities only.

Dean started the car and cranked the heat on high so Sam could warm up. The cell phone rang and Sam picked it up.

"Hello? Sarah? Sarah where are you?" He had given Sarah the number last night at the graveyard, but he didn't expect to hear from her so soon after the murder.

"Sam, he raped me."

"What are you talking about?" he asked.

"Jacob Rains. He raped me." Her voice sounded unbelievable calm, so calm the Sam was hesitant to believe her.

"Sarah, did you tell the Sheriff that Jacob raped you?"

"No, only Jim and Brian knew."

"Where are you? We'll come and get you."

"I needed you to know that. I needed you to understand."

"Sarah, why are you telling me this?"

"Because I want you to have all the information you'll need to find this thing and kill it for me."

"We'll find it and stop it, I promise. Tell me where you are and Dean and I will come get you."

He looked at Dean and saw the same concern he was feeling reflected in Dean's eyes. Something was wrong.

"I didn't know Jim and Brian were going to kill Jacob. I thought they would just beat him up for raping me, but he got his revenge. They're gone now. They're all gone, and I'm alone, but not for long."

"Sarah…Sarah what are you doing? Sarah, please tell me where you are and I promise we'll come to you."

"Good bye Sam. I hope you find it and kill it for me."

"Sarah! Sarah!"

BAM!

The sound of the gun shot was so loud that Dean was able to hear it clearly. They both just stared at each other for a moment, and then Dean punched the accelerator while Sam dialed 911 to report the suicide of Sarah Beth Roberts.

Dean broke every speed limit in existence but by the time they pulled in front of Sarah's home the medics were already loading her dead body into the back of a van.

Sam got out of the car and walked on shaky legs towards the gurney carrying the body bag.

"Excuse me, but you have to stay back." It was the same deputy from this morning.

"You said she would be looked after!" Sam yelled to the medics loading the body. "You were supposed to take care of her." Dean was pulling at Sam, trying to get him to calm down before he did or said something that got them arrested.

The Sheriff appeared suddenly. "How did you boys know about this?"

"Sarah called us," Sam said. "She called to say good bye and then she shot herself. Why was she here? Why wasn't she at the hospital under supervision? You people had to know she would have been suicidal!"

"Please, excuse my brother," Dean said. "He's just a little freaked out. We just listened to a girl kill herself."

"I understand. I'm sorry for what you went through tonight. I want you boys to go to the hotel and get some rest. I'm going to need you to come to the station in the morning and give a statement."

"Fine," Dean said. Once again he pulled at Sam's arm and literally dragged his brother away from the crime scene.

Sam was a little out of it. Dean literally opened the car door and nudged Sam inside. He got into the driver's seat and started the engine.

"I told her we would help her."

"Sam, it's not our fault."

"We failed her. She trusted us and we failed."

Dean literally grabbed Sam by the shoulders and shook him, hard. "Now you listen to me right now, damn it. We did everything we could. We just didn't have enough time. The murder and the suicide came to fast for us to even have a chance of stopping it. It's not your fault! It's not my fault! Sometimes shit happens and you can't stop it no matter how much you wish you could!"

"She said she wasn't going to be alone anymore," Sam said. "That's why she did it. She'd lost everyone she'd ever loved. She told me to find it and kill it. I want to find this and kill it." Sam was fighting to hold back the tears that threatened to fall. The grief and anger he was feeling was for more than just Sarah, it was also the grief and anger he felt over Jessica. The truth is, he never really stopped to grieve her loss.

"We will. I swear Sammy, we will, but I need you to be strong. You can't let this turn into another thing you feel guilty for. You can't let this drag you back down again."

"I won't," Sam said, and Dean wanted to believe him, but he didn't.


	6. Mary Rains

Chapter 6: Mary Rains

Author's Note: Thank you for the reviews. It's always nice to know that someone likes what you're writing.

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Dean set a tray in front of Sam with a Big Mac, a fry, and a coke. He set his own tray down in front of him with the exact same items on it. Sam didn't even acknowledge his presence. He was withdrawing into him self once again which worried Dean.

He cursed himself for not answering the phone. If only he had answered the cell when it rang then Sammy wouldn't be sitting there replaying Sarah Beth's words over and over in his head. The fact that he would then be the one hearing her last words didn't matter to him.

Over the years Dean had learned to block a lot of the bad out. He just chose not to deal with it and he moved on. Sam didn't have that ability. Even though Sam would do better when the day came that he could block out the bad, Dean actually hated to see that day come because it would mean that a little piece of Sam's soul, the very essence of who he was, had died.

"Sammy, come on, you have to eat," Dean insisted. Sam had yet to even touch the food before him.

"This whole time I thought Sarah Beth was the key, but I'm not so sure anymore. I think we need to go talk with Jacob's family. Especially since we now know that he was killed by Jim and Brian, and not by a headless horseman."

"It's too late to go and talk to his family tonight, but we will first thing in the morning."

"They must have been furious."

"Who?" Dean asked.

"Brian and Jim. I mean, I understand that Jacob raped their sister, but to actually cut off his head. I wonder what they were thinking at the time."

"They were probably thinking about revenge."

"Do you think they meant to kill him, or that things got carried away?" Sam asked.

"Does it matter? Dead is dead," Dean pointed out.

"It's just that, the town thought highly of those two, and then to find out they did something so grisly, it's just a little shocking, even if it was to exact justice for their sister."

"Look at it this way. Something killed our mom. We've been chasing it for over twenty years. That same thing killed Jess, and your desire to send it back to hell caused you to walk away from law school and your chance at a normal life."

"After losing Jessica there didn't seem to be a point anymore," Sam sighed.

"I'm just saying revenge is a powerful thing. It can make otherwise good people do crazy things."

"I miss her."

"I know."

"I close my eyes and I can still see her so clearly. Sometimes I wake up at night and think about something I want to tell her or ask her, and then I remember she's dead. It actually takes a second to remember that."

"Sammy, what is the secret you're keeping? What is it that's haunting you?"

"I can't tell you."

"Of course you can. You can tell me anything."

"Not this."

"Sam."

"Let it go, Dean. If the day comes that I think you need to know I'll tell you then." Sam picked up his burger and started to eat, hoping that Dean would be happy with that, even though the food in his mouth tasted like cardboard.

"This isn't over," Dean said. "I'll drop it for now, but this is far from over."

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The next morning Dean and Sam found themselves standing in front of the Rains family farm. Dean felt a tingling go up his spine as he looked around the place. There was a feeling of familiarity to it that he couldn't describe. He was sure he'd never been here before and yet he recognized the place for some reason.

They climbed the steps and walked towards the door. The porch creaked loudly. The screen door had fallen off and was leaning against the wall next to the main door.

The house itself was in need of painting and several windows were cracked with tape holding them together. The place had definitely seen better days.

Dean knocked on the door but no one answered. He knocked once more.

"I guess no one's home," Sam said.

"Can I help you?"

They turned to see a young woman walking out of the barn carrying a bucket. Her clothes were dirty and her hair was piled on top of her head in a stringy blond bun.

"Hi, are you Jacob Rains' sister?" Dean asked.

"Yeah. I'm Mary. What cha want?" she asked cautiously.

Dean didn't bother to create some elaborate story. He figured she had already heard about the two outsiders who were hanging around Sarah Beth. Small towns were like that.

"I'm Dean and this is my brother Sam. We'd like to ask you about something if you don't mind," he gave her his most dazzling smile. "That looks heavy. Here, why don't I carry that for you?" He graciously took the bucket of grain and carried it to the porch for her.

She smiled coyly and batted her lashes. "Thank you."

"No problem," Dean replied.

"It's been a while since I've had someone to help me around here," she said. "It gets awfully lonesome."

"Why are you by yourself?" Dean asked.

"Jacob, he's my brother, he was killed about a month ago."

"Where are your parents?" Sam asked.

"Mom ran off ten years ago. Dad drank himself to death two years ago come this Christmas."

"Sorry to hear that," Sam said.

"Don't be," she laughed. "He was a mean old son of a bitch. I half expected Jacob to kill him one night, but Jake never did."

"Actually, Jacob is the reason we're here," Sam pointed out. "We're investigating how he died."

"I can tell you how he died. Those bastards Jim Roberts and Brian Dupree killed him. I told the sheriff but he wouldn't believe me. He said I had no proof and that I couldn't go around accusing upstanding citizens with no proof."

"How do you know they did it?" Dean asked.

"Because the week before Brian came here and told Jake off. Said to stay away from Sarah or he'd kill him. Well, Jake ended up going on a date with Sarah a few days later. He told me about it. Said he and her had a real good time. Later that week Jim and Brian came to the house looking for Jake, but I told them he weren't here so they tore out of here like a bat out of hell to go find him."

"That night Jake didn't come home," Mary continued. "The next morning here comes the sheriff to tell me how they found Jake's body but not the head out on Perkins Road. I knew. I knew those two killed my brother. But then they went and cut off his head to make it look like some stupid headless horseman killed him. They even shoved a copy of the damn book in his pocket. I tell you, it was no ghost that killed Jacob."

"What book?" Dean asked.

"You know…Sleepy Hollow or something."

"Did Jacob have a lot of friends?" Sam asked.

"Are you kidding? No one in this town wanted anything to do with any of us. When Jake died only four people even bothered to come to the funeral. It was a different story when Jim and Brian got theirs. I heard the whole damn town turned out for their funerals. Everyone talked about what a shame it was. Where were those concerned people when my brother died, huh?"

"I'm sorry it's been so hard for you," Sam said sincerely.

"No one has even bothered to come out here and see if I needed anything. I bet it's been a different story for Sarah though. I bet folks are just lining up to cook her meals and bring her things to make her life a little easier." Anger and sarcasm dripped from every word that came out of her mouth. "I bet Sarah isn't feeling so special now, though. Now she's just like me…alone. Serves her right."

"You mean you don't know?" Sam spoke up.

"Know what?"

"Sarah's dead," Dean told her.

"What? But I didn't…" she suddenly stopped talking and looked away.

"You didn't what?" Sam questioned.

"I didn't know that. How did she die? Was her head cut off like Tom's?"

"How did you know about Tom losing his head?" Dean asked.

Suddenly Mary became suspicious of the two men asking her all these questions. "Who the hell are you exactly? Why do you want to know all of this?"

"It's like I said. We're investigating the deaths."

"You mean you're investigating all the deaths, not just Jacob's." Her suspicion was quickly turning to anger.

"That's right," Sam explained. "We're trying to figure out the connection. There's no way this is all a coincidence. I believe Jim and Brian killed your brother, but now something is killing other people, using the same method. You have to admit, that's pretty strange."

"I don't think it's strange at all. I think justice is being served. You two should leave now," Mary said. "You're not cops and I don't have to talk to you."

"We're just trying to help," Sam said.

"You mean you're trying to help her! Everyone is always helping her! Now she's dead and people are still helping her! Why? What made her so damn special?"

"Sarah's dead. No one can help her now," Sam said, "but I would like to know who or what killed her."

"Sarah, Sarah, Sarah! I'm glad she's dead. I'm glad her whole family is dead. They deserved it…all of them…and so do you!" She suddenly struck out and grabbed Sam's hair, pulling as hard as she could.

"Hey!" Sam said. "Calm down!" He grabbed her wrists and pulled her hands off of him, losing some of his hair in the process.

"Lady, cut it out," Dean shouted and he grabbed Mary around the waist and picked her up and carried her away from Sam who was rubbing the sore spots on his head.

"Put me down! You can't protect him! No one can protect you when he's after you!" She kicked her legs wildly and Dean took a hard hit to his shin and practically dropped her. "Get out of here and don't come back!" Mary yelled as she ran into the house. The sound of the door bolt sliding into place could be heard.

Dean and Sam could hear her still yelling through the door. "You two better get out of town. Leave before one of you loses your head!"

Dean looked at Sam standing by the porch steps. Suddenly he remembered why this place seemed so familiar. Behind Sam was an open meadow, and just beyond that was a corn field. It was the same meadow and cornfield he had seen in his nightmare two nights ago. Sam was standing just a few inches away from the place where he died in Dean's dream.


	7. Together or Not at All

Chapter 7: Together or Not at All

Dean felt his heart begin to beat rapidly and a cold sweat broke out on his face.

"Dean, what's wrong?"

"We have to go, now!" Dean gave Sam a shove towards the car. He had to get Sam out of this place.

"Why? What's happened?"

"Get in the car!" Dean ordered none to gently. He jumped into the driver's seat and started the ignition. He pulled out of the driveway so fast that tires actually squealed.

"Dean, what the hell is wrong? I'd say you look like you've seen a ghost but ghosts don't scare you…not like this."

"I'm not scared. We're just leaving."

"Leaving for where?" Sam waited for an answer but Dean didn't give one. He was growing more frustrated with every mile Dean put between them and Mary Rains.

Dean drove straight to the motel and pulled into a parking spot right in front of their room.

"Now will you tell me what is going on?" Sam asked.

Dean got out of the car and went into their room. Sam hurried behind him desperately wanting some answers.

Sam stood and stared as Dean began to grab their items and shove them into a duffle bag.

"Dean, what are you doing?"

"What does it look like? I'm packing. We're leaving." He went into the bathroom and grabbed the toothbrushes and paste.

Sam put his hand on Dean's arm and stopped him. "I'm not going anywhere until you explain why you look like you're on the verge of a panic attack."

"It's time to go, is all. You said it yourself. Sarah was the key to this mystery. Now that she's dead the case is over. There's no one left for the horseman to kill."

"You don't know that," Sam insisted. "As a rule these things don't just stop. Usually the violence escalates."

"But with the whole family dead there is no one left to do violence against. So, let's get out of here."

Sam sat down on his bed and crossed his arms over his chest. "I'm not leaving."

"Oh yes you are," Dean said.

"Sarah's last words to me were for me to find this thing and kill it. I'm going to do that with or without your help."

"Damn it Sammy, stop being so stubborn!"

"It's Sam, and you're calling me stubborn. That's funny."

Dean sighed in frustration and sat down on his bed. "This isn't a game. We don't have time for you to have a temper tantrum. I need to get you far away from Stars Common before nightfall."

Sam was truly confused. "Why? What's going to happen tonight?"

"Today was the first time I had ever been to that farm, and yet I recognized it. I saw it in my dream two nights ago."

"The night you woke up calling my name," Sam guessed.

"Yes."

"What happened? In your dream I mean."

Dean closed his eyes, seeing the images replay in his mind. "You died, all right. The horseman was chasing you through the cornfield and then through the meadow. You made it to the farm house and were starting up the stairs. For some reason I was coming out of the house. You stopped and the horseman caught up to you and…and cut off your head."

"It was just a dream."

"No it wasn't." Dean stood up and began to pace the room. "I've had nightmares before. I don't get them often, but they do happen from time to time. Sam, this was like no other dream I've ever had. Even after I woke up I still thought you were dead. We can't stay here. I won't let this thing come after you."

"Let's say you're right. The ghost of Jacob Rains is coming for me next. Who's to say that if we run away that will protect me? It's a ghost. They aren't limited by time and space."

Dean plopped back down on his bed. Sam was right. Even if he did get Sam out of Stars Common it didn't mean that he would be safe.

"The way I see it, we have about five hours before the sun goes down. I think it's pretty obvious what we have to do. We have to stop this thing. Are we agreed that the horseman is actually Jacob Rains."

"We're agreed. It makes sense that he's exacting revenge on those who killed him."

"There's more though. Tom didn't play a part in killing Jacob. If it was just revenge on Jacob's part, he had no reason to go after Tom."

"Unless," Dean said, "he went after Tom to punish Sarah. Sarah played a direct roll in his death by telling her fiancé and brother what happened."

"True, but what if Tom was killed because someone else was jealous of the attention being given to Sarah."

"You mean Mary."

"Exactly! Mary's lost the last member of her family, but the town is actually breathing a sigh of relief. No one is comforting her, noticing her. Then she sees Sarah getting the sympathy of the entire town and sees Tom protecting her, and she gets angry and jealous, and she wants to make Sarah suffer the way she is suffering."

"So the horseman is doing Mary's bidding. Jacob is taking care of his sister from the grave. Mary tells him who to go after and he does it."

"That's what I think," Sam agreed.

"So anyone who pisses off Mary is in danger," Dean said, looking Sam in the eyes.

"We have to find Jacob's head. If we can salt and burn it then the ghost should be vanquished."

"There's just one problem. We don't know where to start looking and the only two people who do know where it is are dead."

"Well, let's start thinking," Sam sighed. Obviously Jim and Brian cut the head off to confuse people. They were upstanding guys; no one would guess they could do something so awful. They leave the book behind but take the head. They're not going to take it to their place. Someone might find it and then they would be facing prison…or worse."

"So we don't need to search Sarah's house."

"They couldn't just throw it on the side of the road. That would hurt their cover story of a headless horseman. Maybe they put it in the cornfield?"

"That's a possibility, but then you would get crows and other birds flying in and drawing attention. No," Dean finally concluded, "someone would probably discover it."

"That means they would need to bury it somewhere."

"Great," Dean said and began to pace once again. "This town is surrounded by woods. They could have buried it anywhere."

"Tell me about your dream," Sam suddenly said.

"What?"

"Your dream, what happened exactly?"

"I already told you, you died."

"No, back up. What happened before that?"

"You were running through the cornfield. Something was chasing you. The horseman was chasing you. Then you ran out of the corn and into the open meadow or yard in front of Mary's house."

"You said you were just coming out of Mary's house," Sam interrupted.

"Yeah."

"Were you holding anything?"

Dean tried to concentrate, recall the dream more closely. "I can't remember. My attention was drawn to you so quickly that I didn't get the chance to look at my hands. You don't think Jim and Brian would have had the balls to actually bury Jacob's head on his own property do you?"

"It makes sense," Sam said. "If the head was discovered insects and other animals would have removed any evidence that might have been left behind."

"Not to mention no one probably would have bothered to look there in the first place. If Jake was killed on Perkins Road why search the farm?"

"At the moment it's our best shot," Sam said.

"Fine, I'll go out there, but I want you to stay here."

"What? Why?"

"Because I don't want you anywhere near that farm."

"Dean, that's crazy. You can't search the entire property by yourself. You don't have enough time before the sun sets."

"I'll be fine. The important thing is that you're safe."

"I thought we already had this conversation. Just because I'm not at the farm doesn't mean I'll be safe."

"I'll make sure your safe if you stay here. I'll pour a circle of salt around the room and I'll leave you the shot gun with the rock salt bullets."

"So you expect me to stay here and hide while you go play tag with a very dangerous and very pissed off ghost. No…I won't do it." Sam was shaking his head. "Either we go together or neither of us goes at all."

"Damn it, be reasonable!"

"I am being reasonable. I say we go out there together and start searching. If we haven't found anything by 4:30 we BOTH come back here and stay inside a circle of salt until morning when we can start again."

"Sam, don't make me tie you to that bed," Dean warned. "You know I will if I have to."

"I'm right and you know it."

Dean let out a long and deep sigh. Sam could see the frustration he was feeling. It was almost palpable, but he was standing his ground. They would do this together or not at all.

"Fine, let's go, but we are leaving before sun set."

"Good." Sam said, relieved that Dean had stopped fighting him. He knew Dean was concerned because he loved him, but he had to understand that Sam felt the same way about him. He wasn't ready to risk Dean's life anymore that Dean was willing to risk his.


	8. The Plot Twist

Chapter 8: The Plot Twist

They arrived back at the Rains farm. Dean parked the car about a half a mile away behind a grouping of trees so no one would notice it.

"We should cut through the corn to avoid being seen," Sam said.

Dean looked like he wanted to object but he just nodded his head. They entered the field and starting cutting across the rows. Sam had to admit that it was creepy. He couldn't help but be reminded of the movie "Children of the Corn." That movie had scared him big time when he was a child.

Dean's every nerve was on full alert. He was working hard to control his fear. Dad had taught him years ago that fear would get you killed if you let it consume you.

After a couple of minutes they made it through the corn. They stopped and crouched down to see if they could see Mary. To their surprise the old car that had been in front of the house earlier was gone. Mary didn't seem to be home.

"This is almost too good to be true," Dean said. "Come on, now's our chance to search the house."

"Search for what?"

"I don't know exactly, but I'll recognize it when I see it," Dean said with his trademark smirk.

They hurried across the yard and up the front porch. Dean tried the knob but the door was locked. They made their way around to the back and found that door locked too. Dean moved to the kitchen window. He lifted up and grinned when it slid open. Dean crawled through the window and then walked to the door to let Sam in.

The inside of the house wasn't any better than the outside. Most of the furniture was old and had blankets draped over it. The kitchen table set was something from the seventies. At one time the place had been cute, but that time was long past.

They split up and went into different rooms. Sam found Mary's room and began to casually look through her things. Dean found Jacob's room and went in.

It was obvious that Jacob was into the occult. Crosses hung upside down, a pentagram was on the ceiling, and black candles lined a dresser. It looked like the stuff you would find in a rebellious teenager's room who was experimenting with Goth.

There was some silver jewelry on the dress, a skull ring, and a leather necklace with a spike pendant.

"Bunch of junk," Dean mumbled.

In the hall Sam opened a closet and noticed a cardboard box in the floor. He pulled it out and found bloody clothes inside. There was also a wallet, a Timex watch, a pocket knife, and a pack of Newports. Sam realized these were the personal affects found on Jacob's body the day of the murder. There was one more item in the box, a copy of "The Legend of Sleepy Hollow and Other Tales," by Washington Irving. The book was covered in dried flaking blood.

While Sam was looking in the box Dean wandered back to the kitchen and opened the door that led to the basement. As soon as the door opened a strong stench entered his nostrils.

"Oh god!" Dean exclaimed and gagged from the smell. "Sam! Sam I think I've found something."

Sam shoved the items back into the box, everything except the book, which he shoved in his coat pocket, and then went to where Dean was in the kitchen.

"Man, what's that smell?" Sam asked, covering his nose with his hand.

"I think maybe we just found Jake's head," Dean replied. He flipped the light switch. All he could see was a dirt floor at the bottom of the steps.

He started making his way down slowly, looking for any sign of danger. Sam was following behind him. Once he was halfway down the steps he was shocked at what was on the other side of the cellar. A long table was against the wall and sitting on top of it was four severed heads, each in various stages of decay. Flies were circling the rotting flesh. Next to that table was another one set up to look like an alter to Satan or something just as evil.

"Dean, I've got a bad feeling about this," Sam said.

Dean was about to take the next step down when something grabbed his ankle. Without warning he fell forward and landed at the bottom of the stairs, hitting his head on the way down.

"DEAN!" Sam gasped. He ran down the remaining steps and kneeled next to his brother who was struggling to sit up. "Are you okay?"

"Sam, someone's here," he groaned.

Sam saw something out of the corner of his eye and looked up to see what was there. He never got to see it. Something struck him in the head with a powerful blow and then everything went black.

"NO!" Dean shouted as he watched the shovel swing down and connect with Sam's skull. Sam dropped like a rock. He never knew what hit him. He started to stand up when he heard a gun cock.

"Don't even think about it," Mary Rains warned. "My pa taught me to shoot when I was six. If you try anything I'll put a bullet right in your eye.

"I just want to check on my brother," Dean said.

"Leave him. He's still breathing. He ain't dead yet." Mary gave Sam a quick kick in the side which elicited a small grunt from him. "I knew you two would be back. I put the car in the barn so you'd think I was gone, and I waited."

"Why?" Dean asked. "Why are you doing this?"

"Because of Sarah. She showed me that I didn't have to take it anymore."

"What the hell are you talking about?"

"Don't you get it? Jake raped her just one time, and suddenly here comes two big strong men to protect her, but no one ever protected me! Jacob had been raping me for years. I even told pa, but he didn't do anything to stop it. When I found out that what he was doing was wrong, I finally decided to fight back."

Mary backed up a little bit but never took the gun off of Dean. Dean stole a glance at Sam but his brother was out cold. He could see blood covering the left side of his face but at least he was breathing.

"Get up," Mary ordered.

Dean pulled himself on his knees and then reached for Sam.

"I said leave him! Get up or I'll put a bullet in his head!"

Dean had never killed a woman before but the psycho bitch was really pissing him off. Sam was hurt pretty bad. All he wanted to do was check on him, but he got to his feet and stared at Mary.

"Over there," Mary told him.

Dean looked and saw that she was ordering him into a small room connected to the cellar.

"Get in there."

"Let me bring my brother," Dean asked. "Please."

Mary's response to Dean's request was to fire her gun. The bullet struck the ground just a few inches from Sam's unconscious body.

"ALL RIGHT!" Dean shouted. "All right! I'm going!" Dean moved quickly inside the small closet like room making a point of keeping his hands up in the air.

As soon as he was inside Mary pulled the door to and pad locked the door shut. A small window in the shape of a half circle allowed Dean to see out but almost no light came in. He felt around with his arms and realized the room he was in was only about four by four feet big with no windows. He was trapped.

Mary walked over to Sam and kicked him once more to make sure he was still unconscious.

"Leave him alone," Dean yelled.

"You're real protective of this fella aren't you? Just like Sarah's brothers protected her. I bet it'd hurt real bad if something happened to him. I bet it would just tear you up inside if I put a bullet in his pretty little head right now."

Dean didn't reply. That was what Mary wanted. She wanted to know that she was destroying a loving family. He was finally starting to understand her. Her family had been sick and twisted, and now she was sick and twisted. She hated love, she hated the very idea of family.

"You killed your brother," Dean stated. "But you tried to frame Jim and Brian for it."

"It was so perfect," Mary said. She pulled out a rope and stood over Sam. "They came here that night looking for Jacob. I told them exactly where to find him. I knew they'd beat the tar out of him. I wanted them to beat him. I wanted them to kill him, but of course they didn't do that. I followed them that night. They found Jake at the lake smoking a joint. He liked to go there at night sometimes. They beat him and beat him and beat him. Once they left I pulled up and helped Jake in the car. I told him I'd drive him home."

"Let me guess," Dean offered. "You drove him out to Perkins Road and chopped his head off."

"Give that man a cigar!" Mary laughed. "I told him something was wrong with the tire. He got out to look at it. I snuck up behind him with the scythe and WHAM! Of course it didn't come off with the first hit. It actually took me three tries before I got the damn thing off.

"It was late, everyone was asleep. I drove down to the car wash and washed the car off of all the blood. I even washed myself while I was there. Lord I was a mess. Then I came home and stuck dear old Jake's head over there on that shelf."

Mary hiked up her skirt and sat down on top of Sam; straddling his body. She ran her hands up and down his chest. "He sure is a pretty thing. His head will make a lovely addition to my collection, don't you think." She tenderly brushed his hair from his forehead.

Dean was repulsed by her actions. He grimaced as she bent over and kissed Sam on the mouth. Thank god Sam was unconscious and would never know of her advances on him. She finally bored of her game and grabbed Sam's hands and tied them together. Then she tied his feet together before standing back up.

She walked over to her little alter and picked up a piece of paper. She wrote something on the paper and then walked back to Sam.

"What are you doing?" Dean called.

"You'll see." Mary bent down and smeared Sam's blood on the piece of paper and then walked back to Dean. She held the paper up so he could see it through the small window. The bloody paper had one word written on it. _SAM_. Mary smiled at Dean and then she walked over to the alter where she put the paper in a pewter goblet. She struck a match and fire curled and charred the paper. Dean watched the flames dance and then die away.

"You better say good bye to your brother. When the sun sets Jacob will be coming for him."

"You BITCH!" Dean shouted. "Let me out of here! LET ME OUT OF HERE!"

"Enjoy your last few hours together." Mary climbed the stairs and closed the basement down, leaving Dean and Sam alone.

Dean's worst fears were coming true. The horseman was coming for Sam and he was trapped in this damn closet. He pushed on the door and discovered that it was solid wood. He continued to kick at it anyway but the thing wouldn't budge.

"Sam!" Dean called. "Sammy, wake up! Sammy, please!" Dean felt tears come to his eyes. He was desperate. He couldn't let Sammy die. He couldn't lose his baby brother. "Dad, I need you," Dean whispered. He couldn't remember a time in his life when he was more afraid than he was right now.


	9. Escape

Chapter 9: Escape

Author's Note: Wow, thanks for the reviews. I'm delighted that everyone seems to like the story. Don't worry, this isn't the last chapter, and things aren't always what they seem! (insert evil laugh here)

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Dean wiped at the moisture that had formed at the corners of his eyes. "Okay, stop feeling sorry for yourself and think of a way to save Sam," he told himself.

He had his cell phone in his coat pocket. He could call for help. He didn't like that idea though. He had never done that before. Not to mention the police couldn't stop the ghost. However, they could come and get him the hell out of the closet. He could just imagine the conversation now.

"Hi, my name is Dean. I'm locked in Mary Rains' basement with my unconscious brother, and oh yeah, a ghost is coming to kill him in a couple of hours!"

Okay, he would have to try something else, but if he didn't think of a better plan soon he would call the cops. He didn't even care if he ended up in prison, as long as he could save Sammy.

He felt in his pocket and was glad that he still had his pocket knife. Luckily for him it hadn't fallen out when he fell. A knife wasn't going to help him bust through the door though. Suddenly he had an idea. He felt around the edges of the door and smiled.

Finally! Something was going right. The hinges were on the inside of the room with him. All he needed to do was pull out the pegs. He pried the knife open.

"Hang on little brother. I'm going to get you out of here yet!"

He wished Sam would wake up. The longer he was unconscious the more nervous Dean became. What if she had hit him hard enough to cause real damage?

He wiggled the edge of his blade between the hinge and the peg and began to lift up.

"Damn it," he cursed when he realized they were rusted tight. Still, he couldn't give up. Over and over he pounded the hilt of the knife with the palm of his hand trying desperately to pull out the hinge. It didn't take long for the palm of his hand to start hurting but he kept working.

After about five minutes he finally felt the thing give. "Yes!" It wasn't out yet but he had broken the seal made from years of damp and rust. It took only about two more minutes before the peg was completely out of the hinge.

"One down."

The middle hinge came out relatively easy. Only one more to go. He got on his knees and began working on the bottom one. Like the first one this one was rusted through and through. He hit at it and hit at it but it wasn't moving.

"D…Dean."

Dean stood up immediately. "Sam! Thank god. Are you okay?" He saw Sam still lying on the floor. He was struggling to roll over but he was disoriented and confused and had yet to even open his eyes.

"Dean…can't move."

"She tied you up. Sammy, try and get free. We have to hurry. The ghost will be here in a little over an hour."

Sam opened his eyes and tried to sit up. No sooner had he lifted his head off the floor it fell back down. The room was spinning wildly and he thought he was going to throw up.

"Dean, help."

"I can't. She locked me in the closet. Sam, look at me." Dean knew Sam had a concussion. His brother moved like a person who had drank way too much and his eyes were glazed. "Sammy! I need you to focus! Follow my voice! Look at me!"

Sam stopped flopping around and directed his gaze at Dean. With some effort he could see his brother's face through the small window.

"Okay, good. I need you to just get out of your ropes. Move your hands and feet and get the ropes off."

"Okay," Sam replied and did as told.

Dean dropped back down to his knees and continued to work on the last hinge. He felt the peg slide up a fraction of an inch when the unthinkable happened. The blade of his knife broke off from the handle.

"Shit!"

"Dean?" Sam was alarmed by Dean's sudden expletive.

"Yeah, it's okay. Just keep working on getting loose." Dean continued to try to use the broken knife but only succeeded in cutting the palm of his hand. He cursed under his breath so as to not upset Sam and then stood up. This door was not going to beat him. He took the stainless steal blade and wedged it into the crack of the door. With two of the pegs out the door pried away from the door jab a little. Maybe if he pulled the door in far enough the bottom hinge would break.

He pulled back on the blade, trying to make a space big enough to wedge his fingers into. He had almost done it when the fucking blade broke again and let the door slip back into place.

"Son of a bitch!" Dean cried. He looked out the window to see if Sam had made any progress and he groaned when he saw Sam was still tied up. That was it. Dean was out of options. It was time to pull out his phone and call for help.

He dug in his pocket and flipped the phone open. He dialed 911 and hit send…and nothing happened! He tried again but all he heard was his phone drop the call. He looked at the bars and saw that he wasn't getting a signal. 'This can't be happening,' he thought. What the hell was he supposed to do now? Sam. It was all up to Sam now. His brother had to get loose and let him out of the closet.

"Sam! How are you doing little brother?"

"I'm trying," Sam replied.

Dean noticed his speech was clearer, his words not as slurred. That was a good sign. Dean watched as Sam struggled and he felt so helpless. He spared a look out the window. The sky wasn't as bright as it had been just a little while ago. They were running out of time.

Sam couldn't believe how much his head hurt. Every time he lifted it even the slightest bit it felt like explosions were happening in there. One side of his face felt all wet and when he looked at the dirt floor he saw it was covered in blood…his blood.

"What the hell did I get hit with," Sam griped.

"She took a shovel to your head. You're lucky you're even alive. Thank god you've got such a hard head."

"It feels like oatmeal right now," Sam complained. Finally the ropes on his hands began to give. He used his teeth to help tug at the knot. "I'm loose," Sam called.

"You're feet!" Dean warned.

Sam struggled to sit up and once again the nausea hit him like a bullet but he stayed up. That was an improvement. He pulled his legs up and began to pry on the knot there. His whole body felt numb. He saw his hands working but he didn't feel them working. It was a strange sensation.

"That's it. You're almost done," Dean encouraged.

The ropes gave way and fell to the floor.

"Okay, now get over here and open the door," Dean ordered.

Sam tried to stand up but he couldn't. He finally settled on crawling over to the door that trapped Dean. Dean was bouncing up and down as Sam got closer and closer to the door. Sam grabbed the door knob and used it to pull himself up.

Dean reached through the window to grab Sam's face. "Man, she did a number on you," Dean said as he examined the gash on Sam's forehead.

Sam grabbed the padlock. "Where's the key?"

"I think Mary kept it with her," Dean said. "You're going to have to break the lock."

"Won't she hear?" Sam asked, his words still slurring a bit.

"We'll have to take the risk. Go over to the altar and see if there is something big or heavy enough to bust the lock with."

Crossing the cellar seemed to require so much effort. He looked at the altar and the only thing there that might work was the goblet. He picked it up and went back to the door.

"Okay, hit the lock," Dean ordered.

Sam lifted the goblet and hit the lock but there was little force behind the blow.

"Harder," Dean yelled. Sam grimaced and flinched from his elevated voice. Dean instantly felt bad. He knew Sam was in a lot of pain and he wasn't helping, but time was running out he repeated to himself.

Sam struck at the padlock four more times before finally the thing broke open. He pulled the lock out of the swing catch and Dean ripped the door open.

"Are you okay?" Dean asked Sam as he grabbed his baby brother by his shoulders.

"I've been better," Sam admitted. "Can we get out of here?"

"I have to destroy the heads and the altar," Dean told him. He grabbed Sam around his waist and pulled one arm over his shoulders. He led Sam to a place next to the stairs so he would be ready to go when the time came.

Then Dean went back to the altar. He found the box of matches that Mary had used to burn the paper with Sam's name. He looked around for something flammable. Under the stairs were several cans of paint. He also found cleaning products and a bottle of turpentine. He grabbed the turpentine and poured it liberally over the decayed heads, the table and the altar. Finally he poured a small stream of it across the floor towards the stairs to use as a fuse. He knew once he struck the match the place would become an inferno.

"Time to go," Dean said, grabbing Sam once more. He helped Sam up the stairs, stopping when they were halfway. He opened the match box, struck one against the side, and dropped it to the floor. As expected the flames raced across the floor and ignited into a small inferno that was growing quickly.

"Dean!" Sam gasped as he watched the fire spread. Visions of Jessica filled his mind and for a moment he could actually see her in the flames.

Dean dragged Sam up the remainder of the steps and stopped at the door at the top. Smoke was already collecting and making the air toxic. Dean tried to open it but it was locked with a chain slide latch. He kicked the door open easily enough and they hurried into the kitchen, each coughing and choking.

"NNNOOOOOO!" Mary screamed and came flying at them with a long kitchen knife. Dean actually threw Sam half way across the kitchen to get him out of danger. Dean grabbed Mary's wrist in mid-air as she was about to plunge the blade into his chest.

"YOU CAN'T SAVE HIM! HE'LL GET YOU! HE'LL GET BOTH OF YOU!" The woman was deranged and surprisingly strong.

Dean struggled with her to get the knife. He knocked her wrist into the wall and the knife fell to the floor. She then attacked with her finger nails and managed to rake her claws across Dean's cheek, drawing bright red blood.

Sam had almost lost consciousness once more when Dean threw him to the floor but he was fighting to keep the blackness away. He pulled himself to his knees. The room was filling with smoke and it was hard to breath. The fire was coming.

Dean threw Mary off of him but she ran at him for another attack. Dean drew his fist back and punched her square in the face. The blow sent her falling backwards down the basement stairs. Dean ran to the stairs to see what happened to her but suddenly a burst of flames leapt from the doorway knocking him back. The kitchen walls were now on fire. The heat in the room was suffocating and smoke was blocking his vision.

"SAM!"

"Here! I'm here!" he choked out, gasping for breath.

Once more Dean grabbed his little brother and hauled his ass off the floor. The back door was too engulfed in flames to use so he hurried to the front of the house. The front door was also on fire. He saw a window and decided to go for it.

He ran, pulling Sam along for the ride and jumped though the window. They both hit the porch in a shower of glass. Without pausing even for a minute Dean got up and helped Sam. They had to get to the corn field. Any minute police and fire trucks would be arriving and they couldn't be here when that happened.

"Dean, I need to stop," Sam gasped and actually cried out in pain.

"We're almost there, Sammy. We'll stop soon. Just hold on for a little bit longer."

Finally they made it to the cover of the corn stalks. Dean led Sam a little ways in before finally stopping and setting Sam down to rest. He wanted to make sure no one would see them moving about when emergency services arrived.

Dean sat on his knees and let Sam lean back into his chest so he could rest for a moment. Both of them were still coughing from inhaling too much smoke, not to mention their faces were covered in soot.

Finally they heard the familiar sound of sirens approaching the property.

"Are we safe here?" Sam asked.

"Yeah, but we shouldn't stay here too long. We need to get to the car and back to the motel. I need to clean the wound on your head."

"Dean."

"Yeah."

"Your dream…it didn't come true."

Dean actually chuckled. "Maybe not, but you have to admit, we cut that one a little close for comfort."

"I had faith in you," Sam said with a tired sigh.

Dean was touched by Sam's words but the truth was, if it had been left to just him, they would be dead. Sam was the one who opened the door, even with his injuries.

"Come on, little brother. Let's get you cleaned up and tucked into bed."


	10. The Horseman Cometh

Chapter 10: The Horseman Cometh

Author's Note: Let me just say that in no way did I ever mean to imply a sexual relationship between Sam and Dean. All I can really say about that is EEWWW! I don't have any issues over slash, but incest is another whole story.

Maybe it's because I'm a girl I made Dean a little more caring than he really is, though I think he really does care about Sam deeply because he is all Dean has left in the world. In almost every episode you see Dean protecting or rescuing his baby brother.

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Dean dragged, half carried, Sam back to the car at the opposite end of the corn field. A black plume of smoke continued to drift up into the sky. Dean was sure that by the time they put the fire out there would be nothing left of the Rains' family farm. In time the skulls would be found along with Mary's body at the bottom of the steps. Arson investigators would even be able to figure out that the fire had been set, but other than that, they would never know the truth of what really happened in that house.

They drove in silence back to the motel. Sam glanced at Dean every now and then. He was glad that his vision was clearing but he still felt incredibly dizzy. He thought about Mary. He was sorry she was dead, even if she was a murderer, even if she was trying to kill them. Mary hadn't been born evil. Her family had made her that way.

In a strange why it made Sam appreciate the family he had. Sure, Dad had been hard on them, and they never settled down and lived a normal life, but Sam knew right from wrong, and he had been loved, even if Dean and Dad sometimes couldn't show it.

Then he realized that wasn't true either. Dean showed he cared almost every day. Maybe it wasn't in the form of a hug, or bonding over a football game, but Dean did other things. He bandaged his wounds. He watched his back. He even saved his life when it needed saving. Maybe if Mary had had another brother or a sister who had looked after her and protected her she wouldn't have turned out the way she did.

Dean pulled into the parking lot and got out of the car. Sam opened his door and hesitantly climbed to his feet.

"You okay?" Dean asked, ready to help him if he needed it.

"I'm okay," Sam replied, even though his legs were shaking slightly as he walked and he wasn't exactly moving in a straight line. He really did feel intoxicated.

As soon as they entered the room Dean told Sam to sit in the chair. He went into the bathroom and came out with several wet clothes and began to wash the dirt and soot out of Sam's gash on his head.

Sam looked at Dean and saw that his brother looked whipped. The scratches on Dean's cheek were raw and swollen. There was also blood coming from his scalp somewhere. He probably got cut when he jumped through the window.

"Okay," Dean said. "You're going to need a couple of stitches in that. Go take a shower and I'll sow it up afterwards."

"Can't you just pull it close with some butterfly Band-Aids?" Sam asked. He wasn't afraid of getting stitches from a doctor because they numbed you up, but they didn't have any of that stuff, so getting stitches now was going to hurt.

"Don't be a baby," Dean said. "It'll only take about six or seven."

"Only," Sam grumbled. He got up and went to the shower. He was anxious to get the smell of smoke off of him. It reminded him to much another fire. He pulled his coat off and dropped it to the floor. He grabbed clean underwear from his bag along with a pair of drawstring sweatpants. He went into the bathroom and after a minute the door opened and he threw the dirty clothes on to the floor.

They would need washing, as would everything Dean was wearing. Dean decided to go ahead and do laundry duty while Sam took his shower. He put on his own sweatpants and then picked up all the clothes from the floor. He felt something hard in Sam's coat pocket. He rifled through the pocket and found a book. He didn't even bother to look at the title. He just tossed it on the dresser and left the room

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The sheriff walked around the charred remains of the Rains' property. This was a mess he just didn't need right now. He had a murderer on the loose and now an arson fire. He hadn't been told yet that it was arson, but he could tell. The house went up to fast for there to have not been an accelerate used.

He watched as the two man fire crew did their job. They would put out all the hotspots and search the building for evidence. He had a deputy out looking for Mary Rains but he had a feeling that Mary would be found in the house. In a month's time two families had been completely wiped out. What on earth was happening in his town?

Suddenly there was a strong gusting wind that blew his hat off his head. The trees bowed and the corn stalks waved wildly back and forth. He looked to the sky to see if a storm was rolling in. He certainly hoped not. That would mess up any evidence still yet to be collected.

He was relieved to see the twilight sky was crystal clear with a quarter moon and the stars just beginning to show. He jumped when a flash of lightning appeared right in front of him. Then there was another. Again he looked to the sky but the lightning wasn't coming down, it was shooting up…up from the burned house. Was there a live wire in there still that was coming into contact with water?

He walked closer to the house. The two fire men who were wandering around in the house ran out of it for safety.

A final flash of lightning lit up the interior of the house and the sheriff couldn't believe his eyes. Walking out of the house was a man, but it wasn't a man.

"Oh my god," he exclaimed.

"Sheriff, what is that?" one of the fire guys called.

"I'll be damned if I know." He drew his gun and began to fire at the headless figure that started walking away from them towards the road. The bullets didn't even seem to phase it. It never even gave any indication that it felt them.

"Aren't you going to go after it?" the other guy standing there said.

"She was telling the truth."

"Who?"

"Sarah Beth. She said the headless horseman killed her family, and I thought she was crazy."

"You mean that thing is going to go kill someone? Sheriff you have to go after it."

"Uh, yeah, yeah you're right." He hurried to his police cruiser and drove after the thing, but he didn't see it anywhere. It was gone, and he had no idea where it was off to. Part of him really didn't want to know.

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Sam laid across his bed while he listened to Dean sing a very bad rendition of _Welcome to the Jungle_ by Guns an' Roses. He held an ice pack to his brand new stitches and popped the last Dorito from the vending machine bag into his mouth. Not much of a dinner, but then he didn't have much of an appetite so it worked out fine.

The water turned off and Dean stopped singing. Thank the lord for small favors. He flipped through the TV channels, making a point of avoiding the breaking news story on channel 7. If he had bothered to listen to it he would have heard about how several firemen claimed to have seen a decapitated body walk away from a certain burned farm house. Instead he was watched an episode of Abbot and Costello on the PBS station. He figured some slapstick comedy was in order for the evening.

Dean stepped out of the bathroom in his sweatpants and said, "Hey, I love these guys."

"You would," Sam teased. "I bet you're a Stooges fan, too."

"Don't knock the Stooges. Even you have to admit that Curly is a riot."

Sam just laughed. It felt good to laugh…to pretend like today never happened, even though both he and Dean would be wearing the battle scars from it for some time to come.

"By any chance did you put the clothes in the dryer?" Dean asked.

"You washed clothes?" Sam asked. "Voluntarily?"

"Don't act like that. We couldn't very well walk around in clothes covered in soot and smoke. I think people would have definitely noticed that."

"True, and no, I didn't put them in the dryer but I will now," Sam offered.

"Never mind," Dean said. "I'll do it." He grabbed some money to put in the coin slot and walked out of the room, closing the door behind him. "Christ its cold," he complained as he ran to the laundry room with his bare feet.

He hurriedly put the wet clothes into the dryer and got it started. He was half way to the room when suddenly a massive breeze started up and almost knocked him over. Loud footsteps could be heard stomping on the pavement and Dean strained to see who or what was coming.

The glow from the motel sign lit up the immediate vicinity and Dean felt the bile rise into his throat when he saw it step into the light. There, not more than thirty feet from their motel was the headless horseman.

"Oh shit!" Dean exclaimed when he realized it was heading straight for their room…straight for Sam!


	11. Shattered Heart

Chapter 11: Shattered Heart

Author's Note: You might need a Kleenex for this one.

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Dean started running as fast as he could towards their room. "SAM! SAM!" he shouted. He was going to beat the horseman to their room but only by a few seconds. Still, at least it would be enough time to warn Sam that the danger was coming. "SAM!"

Several people stepped out of their rooms to see what all the shouting was about but Dean ignored them. Then the door to their room opened and out stepped Sam.

"Dean? What the hell?"

"Get inside," Dean demanded. He shoved Sam hard and ran into the room. He slammed the door and bolted it shut.

"What's happening?"

"He's here," Dean said. No sooner were the words out of his mouth than a long silver blade pierced through the door just a few inches from Dean's head.

"Oh shit!" Sam gasped and grabbed Dean's arm to pull him away from the door.

"He's not after me," Dean said, jerking his arm free. "Go in the bathroom, get out through the window. I'll hold him off!"

"Are you crazy! He'll kill you!"

The door was suddenly smashed to bits and the horseman entered the room with his sword swinging.

Dean grabbed its arm and tried to wrestle for control of the weapon. The horseman used his free hand to grab Dean by the throat and throw him across the room. He hit the wall and fell to the floor.

Sam jumped back, falling over the bed, as the horseman then swung his sword straight for Sam's head. He felt the wind against his neck where the sword had sliced though the air. Sam scooted back with his hands and feet to avoid the downward thrusts that were now coming his way.

Dean jumped on the things back and beat on it. The horseman clawed at his back, trying to rip Dean off. Sam used the distraction to climb over his bed to get to Dean's. He grabbed the knife Dean always kept under his pillow. Sam charged the thing and shoved the knife into the ghost's heart, ramming the blade in all the way to the hilt. The horseman didn't even flinch.

It managed to shake off Dean but dropped the sword in the process. The horseman take hold of Sam by the throat with one hand and punched him in the face using its other hand. Then it grabbed Sam by the shoulders like he was a rag doll and threw him. Sam landed on top of the dresser and rolled off onto the floor. Something fell and hit him in the head. It was the book. The blood covered book from Jacob's murder.

Dean was now slashing at the horseman using its own sword against it. Nothing seemed to hurt it. It still had Dean's knife stuck in its chest. The horseman managed to ram its fist into Dean's face and drop him like a stone. Dean rolled on the floor moaning.

Sam looked for Dean's lighter. His brother didn't smoke but he always had a lighter lying around for emergencies.

The horseman bent down and picked up its sword. Sam swallowed hard as he saw it coming for him again. He dived out of the way just as the ghost moved to strike. He saved his head but got slashed across the left shoulder.

"Ahhh!" he cried. Blood began to flow from the wound. Even worse, he dropped the book. He went to grab it but the ghost thrust his sword once more. This time the sword missed Sam and got its tip stuck in the floor. Sam hurried to grab the book again. Just as he wrapped his fingers around it the sword was pulled loose and the horseman managed to swipe it across the right side of Sam's neck.

"NOOOO!" Dean screamed. He ran towards the thing and tackled it with all his might. They both fell to the floor.

Sam had fallen back against the wall in a sitting position. In a daze he raised his hand to touch his neck. When he pulled it away it was covered in blood. He looked down at his chest and was shocked at how much blood there was. It was odd, he really didn't feel any pain, but he knew he must be hurt, and pretty badly to make this much of a mess. Was he dying?

He looked at Dean who was now on top of the thing punching it over and over. Dean was consumed by a blind fury. Sam looked at the side of the bed and saw Dean's lighter on the floor not to far from him. It must have gotten knocked off of the night stand during the commotion. Sam began to crawl towards it. He had to get it before it killed Dean. He might have the upper hand at the moment but that thing was indestructible and Dean wouldn't last much longer.

Finally he grasped the lighter and flicked it open. Once more he leaned back against the wall. He held the flame to the corner of the book and watched as the pages caught fire and began to char and curl. He looked at the horseman and saw that it had stopped fighting. Dean climbed off of it and stood back. He looked at Sam and Sam smiled at him while holding the burning book.

When the book was fully engulfed Sam dropped it to the floor. Suddenly the horseman himself burst into flames and then vanished into thin air. The only thing left was Dean's knife, lying on the floor.

Dean grabbed the blanket off the bed to snuff out the fire before the room itself caught fire. Then he looked at Sam. Dean went into action immediately. He pulled the sheet off the bed and began to apply pressure to Sam's neck.

"Sammy, you did it," he said. "It's gone."

"Good," Sam said. "You're bleeding."

Dean looked down at his own chest and saw a large cut there. It was a just a flesh wound. "Yeah, well you aren't looking so good yourself."

"I've been better," Sam said for the second time that night.

Sirens could he heard coming from the back ground. Help was coming. Dean prayed an ambulance was with them. Sam was hurt really bad and losing too much blood. Dean increased the pressure he was applying to Sam's neck.

"Dean, promise you'll find it."

"Find what?" Dean asked as he used the sheet to wipe some of the blood, not really paying attention to what Sammy was saying.

"The thing that killed Jess. Find it and kill it for me."

Dean's heart began to beat frantically in his chest. This wasn't happening. His brother was not sitting in the floor saying good-bye to him. "We'll find it together. We'll kill it together. That's a promise."

Police cars and two ambulances pulled into the lot. People from other rooms ran to them and told them what they saw.

"Just hang on Sammy. Help's here. You're gonna be fine. Just wait until the chicks see your new scars."

"Dean…"

"Chicks dig scars, ya know."

"Dean…"

"The hotel manager is going to have a fit when he sees this room."

"Dean,"

"What?"

"I'm sorry…I left…yy" Sam's voice faded before he finished the sentence and he lost consciousness.

"Sam! Sammy! Sammy, don't you die! Damn it do you hear me! Don't you die!"

Paramedics rushed into the room and pulled Dean away from Sam.

"Help him!" Dean demanded. "Please! He's my brother. You have to help him."

"Get a stretcher in here now!" the paramedic yelled to the guys outside. "He's losing too much blood!"

Dean watched as two men lifted Sam onto a stretcher and another was applying pressure to Sam's neck while also trying to apply pressure to his arm. Dean felt so useless. He was used to being the one who patched up Sam's cuts and bruises but this time it was out of his hands.

From outside Dean could hear an old lady and her husband telling the sheriff about a man with no head attacking those two poor boys. Then the man asked if the one boy was dead as they wheeled the stretcher out of the room. Suddenly Dean couldn't breath. He moved to follow behind the stretcher but he was holding his chest gasping for air.

"We need another stretcher in here," a paramedic yelled. "This one's about to keel over."

Strong hands grabbed Dean and forced him to sit on the bed.

"I'm all right," Dean insisted. "How's Sammy? Will he be okay?"

The paramedic didn't answer him. Instead Dean had a flash light shined into his eyes and was told to follow a man's finger with his eyes. Dean waved the hand away and again asked, "Is Sammy going to be okay?"

"I don't know, son. We're going to take care of him the best we can." He took Dean's arm again and moved him on to the stretcher.

"What do you mean you don't know? You have to know. He's my little brother. I'm supposed to take care of him." Dean was babbling and the paramedics just looked at each other. They began to strap Dean down but he fought them.

"Let me up. I'm fine. I need to get to Sam! OUCH!" Dean looked at his arm and saw a hypodermic needle quickly injecting him with something.

"This is just to help you relax," someone said.

Someone in the background spoke into a walkie talkie, "We're bringing in a second male victim with several large non-lethal cuts, possible concussion, suffering from shock."

Dean was furious. He wasn't suffering from shock. All he needed was…was…Sammy…yeah…he needed Sammy. "I need…to…get to…my…brother," Dean slurred. "He…can't…die." Dean's eyes closed and he never felt the paramedics strap him down to the stretcher or drive him to the hospital.


	12. Mending

Chapter 12

Consciousness returned to Dean slowly. His mind felt like it had a fog covering. He moaned and stretched, and immediately stopped as the various aches and pains reminded him that all was not well.

"Good morning," a voice said.

Dean managed to pull his eyes into small slits but he still couldn't see because of the glare of sunlight coming off the white walls.

"Where am I?"

"You're in Stars Common Memorial Hospital," the voice told him.

Suddenly Dean's eyes pried themselves all the way open and he looked at the person in front of him.

"Where's Sam? Is he okay?"

"Why don't you tell me who you are first?"

Finally Dean's vision began to adjust to the light and he realized that the sheriff was standing at the side of his bed questioning him. This couldn't be a good thing.

"My name is Dean Winters. Please, I need to know about Sam."

"You're name isn't Dean Winters. I've checked. I also found your wallet. You had at least ten diver's licenses in it."

"I can explain," Dean said, although at the moment his brain wasn't working fast enough for him to think of anything at all.

"I hope you can explain the things I found in your trunk," the sheriff then added.

Oh crap. This was it. Dean was finally going to jail. He suspected this day would come, but he had hoped it wouldn't before he had the chance to killed the thing that killed mom.

"Is Sam okay?" he asked once more, his voice cracking. "Is he alive?"

"Tell me the truth and I'll tell you about your brother."

"What? Please, I need to know! Did Sam make it?" Dean's eyes glassed over. Was Sam dead? Was that why the sheriff was questioning him without telling him? Because he thought once Dean found out the truth he wouldn't get any answers?

"You want information, I want information. Start talking."

"Sheriff, I'll tell you the truth, and forgive me if I sound like Jack Nickelson, but you won't be able to handle the truth."

"Son, I just watched a wind and lightning storm grow out of a burned down house. Then a man with no head rose out of the rubble and went walking down the road even after I filled him full of bullets that seemed to go right through him. Now I have at least a dozen witnesses all saying they saw a headless man attack you and your brother at your motel. Trust me, I'm open to the truth, no matter how far fetched it's going to be."

"Fine, I swear, I'll tell you everything, but please, you have to tell me. Is Sammy alive?"

The sheriff looked at Dean. The boy was on the verge of falling apart. He understood. He had a brother himself. He walked away from Dean's bed and pulled the curtain back that divided the room. Lying in the bed next to Dean's was Sam.

Dean looked at his brother. He was so pale. His neck was surrounded in bandages at least two inches thick. His arm was equally bandaged and then it had been bound to his chest with more bandages to make sure he didn't move it. He saw wires coming out from underneath Sam's hospital gown and machines above his bed were tracking his heart rate along with other stuff Dean didn't know.

"Is he going to be okay?" Dean asked again. Looking at Sam he didn't know if he should be worried or relieved.

"The doctor's said he pulled through surgery just fine."

"Surgery! What surgery?"

"They had to go in and surgically close off a vein in his neck. That's why he was bleeding so much. When he first got to the hospital they said it was touch and go for a bit. He had lost so much blood. He received two pints of it last night. They closed the wound on his neck and his arm. They're also monitoring a concussion. The doctor says he'll make a full recovery."

"Oh thank god," Dean said. He raised a shaky hand to his eyes and closed then tight to stop the tears of relief that threatened to fall.

The sheriff gave him a moment to compose himself and then continued.

"Now it's your turn. How is it that Dean Winchester, a murder who was shot dead two months ago, is in my town?"

"I'm not a murder," Dean said suddenly. "The guy they killed, he looked like me, but he wasn't me. I've never killed a person in my life."

"I'm inclined to believe you. I've only known you and your brother for a short time, but I don't believe you two are killers, but I am curious, why did that thing come after you last night, and how did you manage to survive its attack when everyone else who met up with it died."

"Sam realized the book was the thing binding the ghost to reality."

"That thing was a ghost? I thought ghosts were invisible, mostly harmless except for the occasional light flickering and door rattling."

"If only," Dean sighed. "My brother and I hunt these things."

"Ghosts?" the sheriff asked in disbelief.

"Among other things. Put it this way, all the things your parents told you about there being no such things as monsters, well, it's not true. There are monsters in closets, there are boogey men, and there are really pissed off ghosts who exact revenge and kill people."

"Then why don't more people know about these things?"

"Because they don't want to know!" Dean said in frustration. "Do you know how many children go missing every single year? Hell, every week? People always just assume the kid was kidnapped. Every time someone dies mysteriously or drops dead from a heart attack they just turn a blind eye to it and say oh well. The handful of real para-psychologists out there are objects of ridicule and usually discredited and even fired by the universities they work for."

"So you and your brother took it upon yourselves to go kill the monsters."

"Actually, Dad was the one who taught us everything. Our mom was murdered by some thing when I was just five years old. Sam was a baby. Dad started hunting for it the very next day. As we grew up it became a family business you might say."

"Where is your Dad? Should I call him and let him know you two are hurt?"

"We don't know where he is at the moment. He's been missing for about six months now. We've been driving all over the country trying to find him."

"I still don't understand why this thing came after you two," the sheriff said.

"The horseman was going after anyone who tried to take care of Sarah Beth. Mary Rains was controlling it. She murdered her brother for raping her for years."

"How do you know this?"

"She told us when she tried to kill us. That's how Sam got his concussion. She nailed him with a shovel. She had all the heads in her basement."

"I'm confused," the sheriff interrupted.

Dean was growing more frustrated. "Mary practiced black magic. She had an altar in the basement. My guess is between the bit of magic she knew, the way she killed Jacob, and leaving the book behind at the scene and getting his blood on it, she accidentally created a monster that she hadn't planned on making. Then, once she realized what she had done, she used her little creation to punish the one person she hated more than any other."

"Sarah," the sheriff said.

"Sarah," Dean confirmed. Mary thought it wasn't fair that Sarah had such a perfect life. Her jealousy consumed her, made her sick. Sam and I managed to escape from her. We set the heads and the altar on fire to stop the monster. Mary wouldn't leave the house. She attacked us and tried to kill us again but Sam and I busted out through a window. Mary had already summoned the ghost to come after Sam. I thought when I set the fire we destroyed everything and stopped it. I didn't know Sam had found the book and shoved it in his pocket."

"So this thing then wakes up and comes to the hotel to kill Sam."

"Yep. It came damn close to succeeding too. Thank god Sam burned the book while I distracted the bastard."

The sheriff stood there in silence. Dean was starting to feel nervous again. Either the sheriff was planning on having him committed to the psych ward, or was preparing to bring him up on charges for Mary Rains.

"Okay," he finally said.

"Okay?" Dean asked, clearly confused.

"I believe you."

"You do?"

For the first time the sheriff actually smiled at him. "Son, I have to believe you. I saw it with my own eyes, as did everyone at that motel. A headless man tried to kill you and your brother."

"So you're not going to arrest us?" Dean asked hopefully.

"No. The way I see it, I owe you and your brother a big thanks. Mary would have kept sending that thing to kill people because eventually she would have become jealous over someone else, and I wouldn't have had a clue how to stop it."

A nurse entered the room. "Oh good, you're awake." She began to check his vitals and shoved a thermometer in his mouth. She also checked his blood pressure. "You're doing well. Blood pressure is normal and your temperature is just a little high, but that's normal for the healing process."

"Healing process?" Dean asked.

"You got twenty-two stitches across your chest last night and then ten more for a gash on your back."

Dean lifted up the neck of his gown and saw his chest was completely wrapped in gauze. It had never even occurred to him to ask how badly he was hurt. Until that moment he hadn't even been in any pain, but now that he knew about it the wounds began to throb.

Next she went to Sam's bed and repeated the process all over.

"How's my brother doing?" Dean asked.

"His temperature is pretty high but again, it's normal considering the trauma he had. His BP is good and otherwise he's resting comfortably."

"When will he wake up?"

"When he's ready to," she said with a smile. She immediately saw the fear in Dean's eyes that her vague answer had caused.

"He's going to be fine, but he was pretty messed up when he got here last night. He's going to need some time to recover."

"Okay," Dean said.

"The doctor will be here in a while," the nurse offered. "He'll be able to tell you anything else you need to know. Also, some one from billing will be coming in to get your insurance information."

"Uh…we don't have any insurance," Dean said.

Suddenly the friendly nurse didn't look quite so friendly. "I'll have to let billing know that. You and your brother might have to be transferred to the county hospital then."

"Wait a minute," Dean said. "You can kick me out of my bed right now. I'll go to a motel, but you can't move Sam."

"I'm afraid that we may not have a choice." The nurse began to walk out of the room when the sheriff stopped her.

"These boys are to be left alone. They're heroes. They stopped the murderer whose been cutting off people's heads. I want them kept in the same room. Send their medical bills to me. I think the town can take care of them as a sign of thanks."

"Yes, sir," the nurse said. She looked back at Dean and he gave her a gloating little smile. She flushed and left the room.

The sheriff looked back at Dean. "There was an $8,000 reward for anyone who helped us capture the murderer. I'll make sure it gets to you and your brother."

"Uh…thanks," Dean said. "Really…not just for the money, but…but for helping Sam stay in the hospital."

"He's really important to you."

"He's all I have left."

"You two take care of yourselves, and I hope you find your father." Then the sheriff left.

Dean turned to look at Sam again. His brother hadn't moved at all. Dean pulled his covers back and gently climbed out of bed. Wow he hurt in a lot of places. He went to the bathroom and then walked over to Sam's bed.

He took Sam's hand in his. It was strange. Sam was three inches taller than him, but some how he always seemed so small to Dean. In his mind he would always be the baby of the family. He looked at all the wires that was connected to Sam and listened to the steady rhythm of Sam's heart beat. At the foot of the bed he saw Sam had a catheter in him. He grimaced at the thought of it, but he guesses it was better than having Sam wet the bed while he was unconscious.

Dean sat down in the chair next to Sam's bed and continued to hold his hand.

"Sammy, you sure know how to scare the shit out of someone, you know that? All I can say is what happened last night better never happen again, or I'll kick your ass myself. I don't ever want to hear you say good-bye to me. You're not allowed to die. Do you hear me? You are not allowed to die. I won't let you leave me again. You're a pain in the ass…you whine…you're moody…and you keep me awake most nights…but I need you, and it's not because I can't hunt alone. It's not about hunting. I won't be able to handle it if you go away again." Dean's voice cracked and he had to stop talking.

He dropped his head on to Sam's arm as the emotions inside of him threatened to consume him. Dean didn't understand why he was being so emotional. He was stronger than this. What would Dad say if he walked in to see Dean blubbering like a baby? No, he had to hold it together. Men don't cry. He drew a deep breath and cleared his throat. His head snapped up when he suddenly felt Sam squeeze his hand.

"Sammy? Sam can you hear me?"

Sam never attempted to open his eyes, but once more he squeezed Dean's hand, reassuring him that he would be all right.

Dean smiled and wiped at his eyes for the last time. He patted Sam's hand and then let go. He walked back to his own bed and lay down once more. He needed to get some more rest himself. Sam was going to need Dean's help for a while and he had to make sure he was strong enough for the both of them.

He was pretty sure Sam would never remember the chick flick moment that had just taken place, and yet, part of him wouldn't even care if Sam did remember it. The events of the last twenty-four hours had shaken Dean to the core. Sure, they had been injured plenty of times on the job. There had even been close calls, but not until last night had he faced the real possibility that one of them might actually die.

From now on there would be more precautions. Never again would they be in a hotel room with all of their weapons in the trunk. From now on they would salt the rooms and the shot guns would be taken in too. Dean made up his mind that they would never be caught with their pants down ever again. Too much was at stake.

He looked over at Sam once more. His body was finally accepting the fact that they were safe, both from the ghost, and the cops. Sam would get better, and they would even have some money to boot. With the knowledge that everything was going to be okay he finally closed his eyes and went to sleep.


	13. Normal

Chapter 13: Normal

Author's Note: After all the hell and anguish I put our two sexy little stud muffins through, I figured they needed a day off. So this chapter is a little fluffy but not disgustingly so. It does give some spoilers to the next story I will be starting.

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Sam sat on the side of his hospital bed waiting for Dean to show up and take him out of here. He was being released today and he was so ready to leave. He'd spent the past five days lying in this bed, although he had been asleep for the first two of them.

He still remembered clearly the look of relief on Dean's face when he finally came to. Of course all Dean had said to him was 'Well it's about fucking time you woke up." Yep, Dean definitely had a way with words. Of course, Sam wasn't stupid anymore when it came to Dean. He knew how Dean felt, and he knew Dean had been scared.

The same day Sam woke up Dean was technically released from the hospital, but since Dean stayed there from morning till night his release had been more of an inconvenience for Dean than a help.

Dean didn't talk too much during the twelve hours he spent visiting everyday. Often he would just read the papers and tabloids. A couple of times he stepped out to make a few phone calls. Sam would ask who he had called but Dean would just say not to worry about it. Once again Dean had gone into mother hen mode and was trying to shelter Sam from something. Sam wanted to be a help to his brother, not a burden, but then Dean had appointed himself as protector a long time ago and he was to set in his ways to change now.

Sam had to admit he hated when visiting hours came to an end and Dean would have to leave. It wasn't that he hated to be alone. No, sometimes that was actually nice. He hated the fact that at the moment he was somewhat helpless and vulnerable. He knew the horseman was gone, but it was unsettling none the less.

Well, he wasn't totally helpless. Dean had taken to the habit of every night pouring a circle of salt around Sam's bed. The first night he'd done it Sam actually laughed, but then Sam saw the significance of the gesture and appreciated Dean all the more.

Dean had been by his side constantly since he entered the hospital, and now that he was about to be released Dean was gone. Sam exhaled a breath and blew his hair out of his eyes. If he didn't get a haircut soon he would start to resemble a sheepdog.

"Come on, Dean. Any time now would be great."

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Dean drove as fast as he could to the hospital. His errands had taken longer than he expected this morning but he was feeling quite pleased with himself. Last night the sheriff had stopped by the motel with the $8,000 reward money. Dean couldn't remember ever having that much money in his hand at one time. None of it would be wasted though. Like Dad had taught them, focus on the necessities.

So Dean had gone shopping this morning and bought a bunch of necessities. He couldn't wait to surprise Sam. Actually, he had a lot of surprises for Sam. Sam wanted to be normal, and by god he was going to have one day of normal today. Dean couldn't fight the smile that crept on to his face.

He pulled into the hospital parking lot and grabbed a couple of the shopping bags from the back seat. Then he hurried into the hospital towards Sam's room. As he neared the room he slowed down and then put the bags on the floor just outside the door.

Sam was sitting on the side of his bed looking bored, but looking much better than when he arrived. His neck was no longer wrapped like a mummy's. It now had a large rectangular bandage taped into place to keep the cut clean. Also, Sam's arm wasn't bound to his chest anymore. A simple bandage taped in place was all that was left there as well.

"Well you're looking better. Still ugly of course, but better."

"Where have you been?" Sam asked. "I was released over an hour ago."

"Sorry, I had some stuff to do."

"Stuff?"

"Yeah, you know, stuff."

"And this stuff was more important than picking me up from the hospital."

"Hey, I'm here aren't I," Dean smirked. He was enjoying messing with Sam.

"Where are my clothes?" Sam asked.

"Oh damn! I knew I was forgetting something!"

"What! You forgot my clothes! How am I supposed to leave here with no clothes!" Sam was definitely getting pissed. Now he would have to stay here and wait for Dean to run back to the motel and get him something to wear.

"Well, I'm sure they'll let you wear the gown. We can always return it to them later."

"I am not leaving here in a hospital gown with my ass on display for all the world to see! Not to mention it's freezing out there!"

"Okay, okay. Calm down. Give me a minute to see what I can do," Dean laughed. He hurried to the hall before Sam decided to throttle him and grabbed the shopping bags.

"Oh, look what I found," Dean said proudly.

Sam looked confused. "What's that?"

"Your clothes," Dean said and tossed the bags to Sam. Sam managed to catch one but the other hit the floor. He opened the bag in his hand and pulled out a new gray turtleneck shirt and a long sleeve blue button down shirt.

"Where did these come from?" Sam asked.

"I bought them for you, stupid. You were running out of shirts. For some reason all your clothes have puncture wounds in them."

"Thanks," Sam said. He picked up the bag on the floor and found a new pair of pants, a pack of underwear, and a pack of socks. "Cool." He pulled the curtain around his bed so he could have some privacy and put on the new clothes. He was impressed, Dean had got all the sizes right. He almost forgot what it felt like to put on something without rips or holes.

"I don't suppose you remembered shoes?" Sam asked as he pulled the curtain back.

Dean was standing there holding a new pair of lace up brown suede boots by his two fingers. He had a big grin on his face. He was obviously enjoying the roll of Santa Claus. Sam took the shoes and put them on. They were a little stiff but they would get broken in soon enough.

"Okay, Santa, I'm ready to go when you are."

"Wait," Dean said. "You still need one more thing." From behind the other bed he pulled out a tan military style coat. It was definitely thicker than his blue jean jacket had been.

"Wow, you thought of everything," Sam asked. "But, where did you get the money for this? This must have cost a small fortune."

"Don't worry, little brother. I didn't rob a liquor store. It turns out there was an $8,000 reward for the capture of the murderer cutting off peoples heads. The sheriff decided to give it to us since we defeated the horseman. He also arranged to pay for our medical bills."

"You're kidding," Sam gasped.

"Nope, for once the Winchester boys actually got credit where credit was due."

"So what did you do with the rest of the money?" Sam asked.

"I bought a few other necessities and the rest is safe and sound. That kind of money will keep us solvent for a while."

Sam nodded his head in agreement. He slipped the coat on and then grabbed his prescriptions off the bedside table.

Sam assumed they were driving back to the motel but noticed Dean was driving somewhere out to the country.

"Where are we going?" Sam asked.

"You'll see," Dean replied mysteriously.

About twenty minutes later Dean turned into a driveway where the sign said _Westview__ Country Orchards_. Sam couldn't help but smile.

"What are we doing here?" he asked.

"You were the one who wanted cider and doughnuts," Dean replied.

"Yeah, but you made it pretty clear you weren't interested in this kind of thing."

"Yeah, well, it couldn't hurt to take a break every now and then," Dean said with a shrug of his shoulders.

They got out of the car and started walking to the entrance. Instantly the smell of apples and sugar and cinnamon wafted into their noses. Even Dean had to admit the aroma was intoxicating.

"Patty from the café told me that they have horse drawn hay rides out here," Dean said eagerly, and then tried to back track. "I mean, personally I think it's silly, but ya know, if you want to do it, then…I guess we can."

Sam just smiled and nodded. They spent the next couple of hours walking around, eating doughnuts and drinking cider until they were ready to be sick, and they even went on the hay ride. That turned out to be pretty funny because a family with four small children also went on it with them and the kids seemed to take an instant liking to Dean and proceeded to talk to him endlessly. Every now and then Dean would roll his eyes and give Sam the death stare which would just make Sam laugh.

Three hours later Sam was running out of energy. Even the sugar high was wearing off and he couldn't stop the yawn from escaping. By the third yawn Dean was ushering him back to the car.

"We can't have you over doing it on your first day out of the hospital," Dean told him. He hadn't expected Sam to last that long before needing rest, but then, he had rested plenty at the hospital and been fed healthy, if bland, food on a regular basis. "Stay here," he told Sam, "I'll be right back." Dean ran back into the little farmer's market.

Sam sat back in the car and relaxed. He was tired. Not from being hurt, but from good old fashioned fresh air. A day in the country always did that. Sam smiled happily. He would remember this day for the rest of his life. The day Dean laughed and had fun and acted like a normal person doing normal things. Of course, Dean would never admit to having fun, but Sam knew.

Sam noticed a couple of more bags in the back seat and saw that they also held shirts. From what he could see Dean had bought him two more t-shirts and another long sleeve shirt. Dean also picked up a few pieces of clothing for himself. Sam was surprised at how wisely Dean had spent the money they got. Dean was known as shoot first, ask questions later. For some reason Sam just assumed Dean would have been the same way with money, but after a life time of watching every penny and even going hungry every now and then, he had obviously learned to be responsible when a windfall did come his way.

About ten minutes later Dean came back carrying two grocery bags. He passed them to Sam to set in the floor before starting the car.

Sam peeked inside and saw a half a gallon of cider, a dozen doughnuts, and some apples and pears.

"Snacks for tonight," Dean said casually. "It'll be better than vending machine munchies."

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Dean parked in front of their new room at the motel. The other room was too damaged to stay in any longer. He looked at Sam and smiled. He was sound asleep. He hated to wake him but he knew he would be more comfortable in a bed.

"Sammy, wake up."

Sam jerked his head up and groaned at the kink in his neck. He followed Dean in their new room, which looked a lot like the old one, and didn't even fuss when Dean pulled back the covers on his bed. Sam kicked off his new boots and lay on the bed. He rolled on his side and made himself comfortable.

"Dean."

"Yeah?"

"Thanks."

Dean smiled. "You're welcome. Just don't get used to this. Come Christmas time I'm not riding a horse drawn sleigh."

Sam chuckled and drifted off to sleep.

Dean ran out to the car to get their packages and food and brought them inside. He stretched and looked at his own bed. The fresh air had worked its magic on him too. He kicked off his boots and crawled in to his own bed for a nice long nap.

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The need to relieve himself of all the cider he drank earlier woke Sam from his sleep. He looked at the clock and saw it was after five. It was already getting dark outside. He climbed from the bed and went to the bathroom. He tried to be as quiet as he could, but he knew Dean would wake up anyway. Necessity had made him a light sleeper.

Sure enough, when he exited the bathroom Dean was sitting up on his bed. One side of his hair was sticking up from having slept on it funny.

"It's time for you to take your prescription," Dean said.

"I know," Sam replied. He pulled out the allotted pills and downed them with a swig of cider.

"Give me a minute and we'll go get some dinner."

"Sure," Sam said. He walked around the room to stretch out his legs and saw two more shopping bags in the floor. He opened them and found big heavy parkas inside. He was guessing one was for him and the other was for Dean. It looked like they would be staying in the northern states for a while.

Then Sam walked over the table and saw newspaper clippings and pictures scattered about. Obviously Dean had already selected their next case.

Dean came out of the bathroom and saw Sam looking at the clippings.

"So what's this?" Sam asked.

"That's research I've been doing on our next job."

"Where are we going?"

"We are going to Beaver Island, Michigan. It's an island located at the top of Lake Michigan. You and I are going to be the new lighthouse keepers. That's what the parkas are for."

"We're going to be light house keepers!"

"Yep, and we start in three days."

"Why?"

"Because over the past sixty years they have never been able to get anyone to work there for longer than two years. In that time four went mad and at least seven of them vanished. The last one to vanish happened just two weeks ago."

"Ah." Sam replied.

"I figure we're dealing with a good old fashioned haunting. You and I will go there for a couple of weeks, actually earn a pay check or two, and send the ghost packing in the process. It sounds perfect if you ask me."

"Actually, it does sound like a good idea," Sam agreed. He especially liked the part about earning paychecks. It was nice to have honest money.

"Heck, I'll bet we even have a little fun. Lighthouses are cool."

"All right, I'm convinced. Let's go get some dinner. I'm guessing we'll be leaving bright and early come morning."

"You got it."

Just like that a day of being normal came to an end and they were hunters once more.

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Author's note: Beaver Head Island Lighthouse is a real place and will appear in my next story. It is currently not operating nor does it have keepers, but for the purpose of the story you'll just have to go with it:-) They do still have a radio operated light for fog that is located in a second structure.


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